


Love potion

by Manzi



Series: Love Potion [1]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Elf/Troll Relationship(s), F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 15:50:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3901996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manzi/pseuds/Manzi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An elf out to develop the next popular aphrodisiac might have a different set of intentions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

”Before we begin, I would like your consent once more. Just in case.” The blood elf, a fairly serious-looking woman, turned to her subject with a clipboard ready, a few squares below a thick row of text still unchecked. “You agree that you’re willingly participating in this experiment…“ She paused for the most appropriate wording “and you agree that I will not be held responsible for any unforeseen outcomes.” Each word was measured precisely and sent through her business-like smile. Her subject, a troll, azure, at least a few feet taller than the elf and dressed only in a thin gown, nodded. It’s a curious game the elf is playing, she thought. She certainly didn’t expect to be standing and listening to dull bureaucrat-talk that the elves were so fond of. But maybe this was part of the play they were acting in; it didn’t interest her much but the elf must have rehearsed this role because her performance was impressively deceiving. Though, whatever game or act was underway, it was slowly eroding her mood.

She thought she knew what the golden-haired elf wanted when they had met in Orgrimmar a few days prior, dressed like the rest of her kind, with a sense of superiority and self-assigned class. Despite that she had averted her eyes and fumbled over her words, whether it was from embarrassment or nervousness she couldn’t begin to tell. As the elf introduced herself as a researcher for a certain Goblin-run company, she recalled stories she had heard of wealthy elven women seeking out members of the horde for sex, or “diplomatic meetings” as they liked to call it. Orcs, Trolls and maybe even Tauren were probably not the type of lovers you would expect an elf to take, so they committed the acts in secret. The researcher part must’ve been her front, her excuse to take a troll, a female at that, by the hand and lead her to a remote house in the highlands to have her taboo fun with.

The room she had been led into confirmed what she already knew. It looked like the country home of a human farmer, warm and simple; nothing like the interiors of lavish elven mansions or tribal troll huts. Behind her, a chair had been crudely bolted to the floor near the middle of the room. Just by looking at it, she guessed it would fit her size well, as well as any other female troll. It had extensions from the main part that would surely house her limbs, and at the end of each there were padded straps that could be secured by sturdy buckles. Never had she seen such a thing, but she was traveled; she simply knew its uses. “No wonder the effort this elf has gone through when her desires need to be met with these contraptions,” she thought. Nodding as if understanding, she flicked a pen over the little boxes below the text she didn’t read. Role-play or not, it was dragging on and she could only feign interest in formalities for so long.

“Thank you, all the preparations are completed. I’m going to ask you to take off the gown and get in the chair. I’ll be with you in a moment.” The elf turned away from the troll but swiveled back and raised a finger as if she had forgotten something. “Oh, and you should call me Ann. Of course, it’s not my real name but it will make any conversation easier. I’ve already prepared one for you as well, you’ll be Jin.” She spun on her heel and took a few steps over to a wooden table that stood out from the rest of the room, like the chair and that table had been moved into an unsuspecting farmer’s home while he was out working the fields. While Jin undressed Ann detached the signed paper from the clipboard, but stopped her hands and turned her head only slightly when the sound of the gown falling to the floor made her ears perk. She liked to think of herself as professional and objective as a scientist, but she knew why she pitched the idea to her employer and it was impossible to deny it to even herself. Ann recalled how she had twisted and smiled sheepishly when had brought the proposal, and judging by her boss’ wide grin he knew the reasons just as well as her.

She listened for the creak of the chair as Jin brought her weight down on it. Trolls were taller, stronger and sturdier than elves, and even after her careful calculations the seat still seemed to give way. Ann could’ve guessed Jin’s form under that gown, and now that her back was turned and the gown was off, she couldn’t help her imagination painting its own, vivid picture. She imagined how life as a warrior would have shaped her body. She could probably lift her with only one arm, Ann fantasized, and the muscles of her stomach would tense and shape the skin as they supported her weight. She probably didn’t have much fat on her, and even if that meant her breasts were smaller, Ann would trace the contours of her lean body instead. She’d etch them into her memory through the tips of her fingers, following their outline the way water naturally follows the easiest route downward. Her entire body would be exotically blue, and the sharp lines where her thighs met her abdomen would be the most erotic part of her, leading down to her nethers, only a few darker shades of blue. Ann could feel herself warming to the image. It was perfection to her, in every explicit and subtle way possible. The warmth kicked at her heart and raced through her cheeks. Her heartbeat was at her throat and she was certain if she turned and spoke now she would only ruin her own professional image she had tried to preserve.

A cough from behind brought her back, accompanied by a jump of her shoulders. Jin had been looking at her frozen in place, clipboard clutched tightly against her breast, with her ears gradually changing color from a faint pink to a blushing red. The elf confused her, which made her feel like she didn’t grasp the situation, which she definitely didn’t like. Lying naked and exposed in that chair, with hands and feet in the straps, she had some time to review the evidence so far. The elf had mysteriously approached her, of all people, to conduct a “study”, the nature of which was still kept secret, her lab didn’t look much like one and the air of professionalism didn’t blow too far. This supported the theory that Ann was only an elven aristocrat with a shameful case of blue fever. Still, going through the trouble to prepare fake names, a home, special equipment and not to mention the paper she had to sign. She thought that once they were alone she’d abandon the disguise and throw herself at her, just like the familiar rumors floating around the rougher parts of the Horde.

When Ann made her way back, Jin noticed the blush on her face despite her trying to conceal it by staring down into her clipboard. She can’t be a researcher, she just can’t, Jin tried to convince herself. Ann, still staring anywhere not near Jin’s eyes, secured the straps around her limbs. They were thick and felt soft to her skin, probably meant to protect rather than restrain. The kind they use in kink-play, Jin imagined, smirking. As she followed the elf with her gaze as she secured the straps, an awfully slow and thorough process, she seemed to shrink as a scientist and become more of a shy woman in the midst of a taboo act that was about to set her desires ablaze, but hiding it until it could no longer be hidden. The glances she snuck at Jin’s body became longer and deeper, she noticed, as if confirming its qualities with her eyes and all physical contact were forbidden. Jin felt exposed for the first time as she became aware of her own, very naked self. She wasn’t ashamed, but she felt wanted. She wondered if this is what bondage felt like, being an object of desire without control, except this had supposedly no sexual intentions. Ann still tried her best to keep her image, and Jin was not sure if she should feel sexy, and in that case how.

“Okay, Jin. Everything has been prepared, and all the papers are in order. You shouldn’t need to think about anything in particular, just be you!” Jin wasn’t sure what she was trying to say, and judging by the awkward rise of the voice Ann didn’t either. Her hand disappeared into the side pocket of her coat, and finally held up a small vial of clear, viscous fluid in front of Jin. She unsealed the small cork and brought the vial towards Jin’s mouth, her hand beginning a slight tremble as her eyes were drawn to her lips. Smooth, light blue and punctuated by two tusks on either side. Ann always found herself staring at the tusks, they suggested something outlandish and beastly but were attached to the most beautiful creatures that walked on Azeroth. When she realized women were her preferred lovers, it had come to her when she caught herself looking at a troll from afar, forming a fantasy in her head where she stood on her toes, biting the troll’s blue lips and licking at her tusks. Their hot breaths would mingle, the troll would cup her small butt with her strong hands and lift her up with commanding power, almost gloating at the willingness with which she submitted.

Ann brought the tip of the vial to Jin’s mouth, pressing it down against her lower lip she saw how the soft tissue gave and clung to the crystal glass. With a breath to expel her tensions, she slowly tipped it and the clear liquid trickled off Jin’s tongue, disappearing down and to the sides. Ann noted the condensation on the now empty vial, and the feel of wet air on her fingers. Her mind was a completely silent room, and each sensation, even the smallest of observations, was like a pin falling on its marble floor. She was acutely aware of her proximity to the troll, her body heat, the allure of her mouth, the amber eyes looking right at her. It made her withdraw with a small jerk, she was convinced of Jin’s intelligence from those eyes. Jin swallowed twice. She had counted.

“What now?” Jin tried to relax back in the chair but her limbs were too oddly placed for that. What the elf had given her tasted like nothing in particular. It didn’t remind her of anything but it didn’t repulse her either. Now she found herself awkward, in an unnatural position and naked in front of an elf with a clear, new set of intentions as she came back without the clipboard but with an unsure face. Ann hesitated, looking at Jin for some kind of confirmation before one hand came to rest, very gently, on her stomach. The heat coming from the troll made her shiver and relax her touch. Through just her skin she felt the strength, the vitality and vigor of her subject.

“Have you read the contract?” Ann focused on Jin’s eyes, which was harder to do than she thought.  
“Why would I? I’m not unwilling, girl.”  
“Well, it—“ Ann stopped herself. Jin was willing. She didn’t know what for, but Ann knew she wasn’t dumb. Her hand moved towards Jin’s breasts with a slow and deliberate touch. She reveled in the shape of her body, the firmness of her stomach and each bump her fingers passed, counting her ribs then rising and curling around her breast, its form easily distorted by her hand compared to the rest of her. She was bafflingly soft or maybe it was just her mind moving faster than she could think, so she acted. She let her grasping hand form naturally around her feminine curve, squeezing only with the faintest of pressure and pressing into Jin’s chest, examining with bated amazement every angle. The instructions she herself had written included this, but those intentions were purely scientific. After administering the solution, she would examine the subject and have her respond to a few questions before the effects were felt, as a kind of control and observation of its effectiveness over a short period of time.

Ann sat the flesh of the thumb on the troll’s nipple, surprisingly small and cute, like made for an elf. Ann entertained the thought and with a cough she remembered the questions she was supposed to ask her. “How are you feeling?” It sounded stupid even to Ann. It was like she spoke to a patient who had just woken up from trauma. Jin had closed her eyes and relaxed her face, somehow trying to enjoy Ann’s nervous, cold hands fondling her. She probably expected their encounter to be more on the romantic and intimate side. “Ya obviously not very good at dis.” Came the particularly accented remark, as if trying to give herself more sass. “I think you need to calm. Ya hands be freezin’.” Ann withdrew her hand and looked at it hanging by her side. She could still feel the numbing warmth of the troll’s skin on it, and if she brought it to her nose the scent of Jin would probably linger there.

“I mean—” Ann was still feeling disoriented by her comments, she had to think. “Could you describe how you feel when I’m touching you, if it feels good, in what way…” She had practiced this scenario a few times already, but she felt more out of place than she thought she would. “I’m writing this down, that’s why.” A laugh from Jin interrupted a breath of silence. “If ya say so. It felt cold and not much other than that. Ya gonna have to work harder for my praise.” Jin wasn’t trying to mock the elf’s efforts, to her it was a surreal situation that she just couldn’t take seriously. To her, all she had done was get strapped into a strange chair and had a drink of particularly thick and tasteless water. Ann could never have imagined a reply like that, and it left here even more lost than before. She kept silent and instead followed procedure, the only course of action set in stone and pre-planned by both her and consultants of her employer. Right now it was the safest thing available.

Ann moved between the troll’s spread thighs, and kneeled in front of her sex. What rampant imaginations of two passionate lovers that had been replaced by a strange, nervous tension started to come back to her, trickling through her body like a warming stream of wine, softly burning her core and spreading out to her very fingertips. They no longer had eye contact, it was just her and her subject, a troll to study and admire at her own leisure. Ann’s eyes drank in every detail now as she felt control return to her. Her hands reached both of Jin’s inner thighs and she twitched, but her hands remained. The procedure called for examination after administration—and in 5-minute intervals, but examination is such a broad term, Ann thought. But examine she did, she examined the mound of Jin’s vulva, another breathtaking part of her. She examined her labia, not aroused, engorged or parted, but just there; it was still beautiful to Ann. Her simple shapes, similar to her own but far more exotic and appealing to her eye. She couldn’t help herself, she planted a trembling kiss on her thigh, so close that she felt Jin’s dark blue lips on her cheek. She was eager to keep going, to kiss her wherever she could reach, so she imprinted the feeling as her strongest memory. The faintest pulse, the living heat, the minute jerk of a muscle when Jin moved. Her lips connected her to her troll, and in the intimate process of a simple kiss, she came to realize her hands were warm.

She flexed her fingers, checked her breathing, felt around inside for that hardness that made her breathing shallow and her core wound tight, but there was nothing but warmth. A warmth that rose and crashed as she took in the scent that seemed to emanate from Jin. Following the instructions she herself had devised, she used her thumbs to tentatively spread her labia and expose the troll deeper. She inhaled the hot air she felt, and it carried a scent that filled her head and her lungs. Another breath, face near enough to feel her heat. She made out each crease, studied the pink that seemed to darken barely. A tingle rose inside Ann; the very air she breathed was intoxicated with Jin’s eroticism, replacing oxygen as that which feeds her. It surged from all places: deep in her abdomen, from the tiny pads on her thumbs that pressed against Jin’s lips and from her brain. She sensed the air she exhaled, scalding and moist falling on Jin’s revealed sex. She heard a gasp and saw her twitch—she had to be told nothing else. Through this sensitive act, she felt connected and empathetic. The same rising simmering that she could see emerging from Jin was about to emerge from her, so she tore herself from the scent that collared her to Jin, but from her periphery an unmistakable gleam reflected in the low light.

Rising, her fingertips followed the length of Jin’s leg as she passed. Uncharacteristic, she caught herself thinking. She was smiling, not just her lips but her body adapted a smiling confidence and she gazed down on the captured troll. Her cheeks were burning almost to the point of stinging, but even so the feeling of Jin´s undivided attention produced no nervous thoughts. She wrote on her clipboard, on a paper titled “[I]Synthesized troll hormones and their aphrodisiac application[/I]”, the time since administration and regarding the heavy scent that affected even her. She recorded Jin’s physical state and willingness, as well as her own. She set aside the papers and observed. She approached Jin, friendly, smiling and hiding the disregard for all that research required—best described as an urge that feels increasingly pointless to ignore. It wasn’t only Ann that had changed, they both knew it. Jin looked at her with restrained lust.

“The next step is to wait five minutes and do another evaluation. I hope you’re comfortable, Jin.”  
“Ya not gonna keep going?” Equal parts surprise and disappointment colored her voice, as if those were the words she least expected or wanted. “In time, Jin.” Jin audibly gulped and stared in disbelief. Just two words with her name attached was the most maddening and erotic prose she had ever heard.

The room fell silent save for their breathing. They exchanged looks, deliberate and studying, sometimes hungry and desperate. In the warm light hanging above in the small room they were in, Jin saw how the elf was sweating now, and Ann saw the troll woman beginning to writhe and rise in tune to the undulations inside her. Billowing waves of excitement and tension rolled through her, like a sensual dancer her body subtly moved in place. Ann knew the whole house was empty; the second floor as well. There was no one around to see Jin’s mating call but her. Only she could see the sweat that slickened her body irresistibly. With her hazy eyes she devoured her details, the softness of her shifting breasts as they followed her movements to the hardness of her muscles, the image of her raw energy which made Ann shiver inside. Nobody would hear her hard breathing, voiceless but calling urgently nonetheless. Every inhale quick and sharp, and every exhale hot on her lips and filled with the shuddering of anticipation. Ann, watching Jin, failed to notice how she watched her in return. The elf was unaware of her body responding, clutching with fingers and nails at her arms, biting her lip and squirming but trying to keep composed, now leaning against the table’s edge which she had dragged closer to her subject.

Five grueling minutes passed like this. Outside, the sun was beginning to set but the temperature inside seemed to rise. Ann had since removed her lab coat, and a simple white vest with matching pants were all that was underneath. Her resistance as she got closer to Jin for inspection warped and sank into her. She knew sexual tension and the intensity at which she sometimes craved release. But when she looked at Jin and saw her pleading eyes, she realized new levels of this intensity. The inspiration to write down what she saw came to her. “The subject has become more amazing than I previously thought possible. I suspect the potion to accurately reproduce or even activate estrus in trolls, for I am also (unexpectedly) responding in a similar fashion,” she wrote with a trembling hand. She admired the objective nature of science, though she was beside herself and taken by Jin’s beauty, unable to tell whether the potion she had given her changed others’ perception of her or if the drug had aroused her to view Jin’s whole body as glowing and erogenous. 

Ann took in the spiced air, voice almost catching in her throat as she spoke. “How do you feel, Jin?” She looked the troll over again. She wanted to write about her, paint her and immortalize the image of fertility, vigor and sexuality before her. “Hot, really hot.” Came her throaty groan. “Ya better play with me when you be done.” She bit down on her lip and the muscles in her neck visibly tensed. “What is she straining against,” Ann wondered. “Maybe—“ voice trailing off as she laid her hand flat on Jin’s stomach. She felt her skin’s dampness and heat, and how her body immediately responded. Jin gasped as if she had been shocked. Her hand trailed the smooth path to Jin’s chest, and her reaction were like ripples from her body that traveled with it. Ann was convinced her heart would surely stop dead before this was over, the way it was hammering when she was made aware of the control she had over Jin and her enticingly receptive body.

Repeating the motions of before, the slender fingers of the elf formed themselves around the suggestive curve of Jin’s breast. Rather than the coldness of an examination, the erotic connotations lay heavy over them like a blanket, suffocating. She squeezed, kissed and nipped at the sweat-sheened, blue skin. Her freedom had been found, and Jin reciprocated with low murmurs filled with promises and detailed descriptions of her desires. Each word struggled to be uttered, oozing between her lips between heaved gasps and raking moans. Jin couldn’t focus. She had closed her eyes, and yet she saw bursts of light and color and sparks coming from her skin where the elf’s probing fingers had been. Every touch left a path of fire that fizzled into an unbearable itch centering itself in her lower body. She felt herself pulse with each beat of her frantic heart, and the tension built and built, the touch on her breasts only hurrying it. The pleasure Ann gave her was abstract, yet incredibly defined. It moved lower, but stayed by her chest.

She wanted to resist the urge to panic and tear herself free. This was a heat, and it had no signs of stopping or slowing. Jin couldn’t focus. There was no anchor for her as the stormy winds whipped at her, faster. The leather holding her creaked and every muscle tensed as a wisp of the elf’s breath landed on her swollen vulva. She realized she had no control as her tongue came next, snaking between feverishly engorged lips, gathering the abundant moisture and nestling up just underneath her clitoris. She had to cry out and twist as hard as she could, she knew she’d go crazy if she didn’t. She wanted to close her thighs, she wanted to rip of her bindings and grind herself endless release on this elf that had captured her. She wanted everything done to her, but she couldn’t find the words to express it. The volcanic buildup in her pelvis stopped, but the searing stayed as Ann withdrew her tongue.

It took the very edge of her will to distance herself from the paradise she had found. She sat on the floor, still mesmerized by the sight and smell of her troll. Not in her wildest, most erotic fantasies could she have imagined her beauty like a powerful force that would demand Ann into servitude. She knew she was slipping fast, and without even realizing how her logical circuits had been rewired, she reached a compromise she felt herself increasingly at ease with. She would wait for five minutes more, document Jin’s physical state, then ravage her and be ravaged. She’d be caught in a vortex and be sucked in, surrendering completely, forgetting anything that came before and dedicate her being to pleasure. The thoughts and hyperboles her lust-drunk mind knew elicited dull stab after stab of lightning from her folds. Her flesh tingled as the clammy, soaked fabric of her panties stuck to her loins shifted, immeasurably little but amplified by the thickly scented air and the troll juices that prickled the tip of her tongue.

Another five minutes, and the experiment had become unbearable for the both participants. Ann had long since removed all her clothes, and sat trembling, staring at Jin’s twisting and writhing body. All that was on the face on the clipboard were a few neglected scrawlings on paper, long pushed out of a mind now only occupied by a singular thought. They both looked at each other through the thick, sexual haze clouding their eyes. Ann had no longer any intentions of holding on to any terms or clauses, she walked slowly and felt her own lubricant soiling her inner thighs. She felt truly sexy as she stared at the troll, having now been reduced to something beastly and animalistic, just by the way her cravings were communicated far stronger than words ever could. Jin’s will was overpowering Ann as they finally kissed. No bonds existed at that moment, Ann was held by an invisible force and fully taken by her troll. With her tongue she inscribed in the elf’s conscious her lust and her desire. Ann knew through the mounting excitement in her abdomen, like a wound spring about to unleash with terrible force, that she wanted Jin to be free. It scared her what she might do when all her energy is unbound; it aroused her irresistibly what that energy, power and frustration might feel like. Her dainty fingers toyed with the strained leather holding Jin’s wrist in place. She had her hands on the lock that would seal her fate and realize her fantasies.

Ann took the leap, and the restraint snapped open, followed by the second but this time not by her hand. Jin’s breath came ragged and hard as she struggled to free herself, finally ripping the binds holding her legs with just brute strength. With an animal grace she rolled off the now battered chair and pounced on Ann’s naked body. They both slammed into the wall, so that cans, produce and equipment rattled off the tall shelves and rained down around them. Jin went in for the kiss on the immobilized Ann. She was thoroughly pressed between the wall and the troll—and the lack of air, the heat and the scent made her head spin. Ann had her legs locked firmly around Jin’s waist and reciprocated the kiss, though her efforts were lost in Jin’s fierce attack. She felt lips that melted her very core; teeth and tusk that bit and excited a primal note resonating in them both.  
All too sudden, the kiss was lost and Ann was forcefully pulled from the troll’s body. Hands were on her shoulders, pushing her down before she had a chance to orient herself. She found herself kneeling between a pair of thighs with a lustrous sheen of sweat and juices, gazing up at her lover. Jin was shuddering and panting and in her commanding eyes Ann saw a desperate pleading, as if begging Ann to help her before she lost all control of her senses. Ann had no more inhibitions, what she wanted was in her grasp. Her nails dug into Jin’s flank and she dragged herself up and nuzzled her face against Jin’s inflamed and soaking labia, tasting deeper and going harder when her troll lurched over and shook violently. It wasn’t long before Ann’s mouth brought her to orgasm, all soundless because the air in the lungs had escaped her. She endured the explosions that each forceful contraction brought; her whole body seized and kept Ann firmly in place. Her tired eyes snapped open and closed hard again as the peak she expected to descend suddenly rose and she found herself launched into a second orgasm that wracked her body with tremors and doused the elf with a tangy liquid that immediately turned to addiction. This time, her voice called out—loud, trembling, cursing and repeating Ann’s name until a third orgasm left her speechless.

Ann was pulled away, almost forcibly, and she sucked in precious air whose need had been all but forgotten in the moment. Her head was mush, and her perception limited to the intense burning and pulsating coming from her crotch and radiating to the rest of the amorphous shape she felt was her body. But when her eyes locked with Jin’s, now a very clear and piercing gaze with strong purpose, Ann shared her clarity. In an instant, their lips met again as they locked in the tight embrace of desperate lovers. The whole body of the elf shook once and her hips began a rolling dance as one troll finger teased her folds, letting only the very faintest touch create superlative pleasures from the sensitive flesh before entering her, and most likely exceeding the poor elf’s limits when the her walls squeezed tight. “Please… the bed upstairs.” Ann’s labored pleading just reached Jin, who only managed to kiss her again and stumble out of the humid room with the elf in her arms. The rest of the house passed by like an inconsequential blur as she made her way with Ann up the stairs to the second floor with large strides. Normally she’s not one for unnecessary violence, but she forced each door open before finding the right one, which led into another, similarly decorated room with a bed strangely large for a human home—not that it mattered to a troll in heat.

Ann landed on the bed, closely followed by the mad troll. For just a moment, everything was silent as Jin hovered over Ann, staring with a lust barely restrained. She was drawn to the elf, or rather pulled towards her by her own desire. Waiting, she savored the moment, and the next, seeing Ann squirm underneath her and begging. Finally, feeling the elven hands giving in and touching her, Jin lowered herself into a kiss, exploding with their constrained rage. Jin took the upper hand, but the battle was far from over as the construction of the bed was tested to its limits. They still felt the potion, impossible to ignore or resist though they were glad to surrender to the pure and carnal. Jin had her way, ignoring much of Ann but wringing cry after cry of joy from her, eating her with the same abandon she had forced the elf into. Any lesser creature would’ve felt the pain, but the way Ann’s thighs closed around her head like a pincer and the way her hips rose off the bed in tune to her louder, hoarse screams, it was a sign for Jin to push further, until Ann had absolutely no more to give and the mattress beneath them sported a dark patch. She realized what letting go felt like, and how liberating and taboo it was to announce your coming as if nobody would ever hear. And even if she felt drained, something had taken an unnatural hold of her urges. She pushed the troll back and giggled happily at the wide-eyed, drenched face of Jin as she straddled between her legs and bucked her hips. It brought her more pleasure even though she thought she had none left to give, and Jin reciprocated. The novelty of the act was arousing in itself and soon they both held each other firmly and felt the tremors and the familiar pulsations travel through and between them as they shared orgasm after orgasm.

With the arrival of nightfall, their lovemaking slowed to a thrilling exploration of new lands. Jin once again took the lead with Ann, who had sunk into the bed, exhausted but eyes filled with life and passion still. The calloused troll fingers danced with care over her front. She touched the spots that allured her, and felt Ann’s heart pound out a steady rhythm against her palm as she kneaded her chest. It was much smaller than her own but the beauty she felt was undeniable and the care she took to find the sweetest spots to make the elf beneath her sigh and smile was greater still. She was fascinated by the porcelain yet organic being she touched, and by the live energy she exuded. Jin lowered herself to smell nothing in particular, and her heart jumped when she closed on her skin, and she kissed at the loins reddened by the prior intensity. She began to teach herself all the small details of Ann’s body; she learned how her chest rose when they kissed, how she moaned when Jin nipped at her clavicle and tenderly kissed the bottom of her breasts. Her stomach was ticklish, and her laugh sang out like music to Jin, but she fell into tense silence when she brought her lips to it. Elven feet were very different from troll feet, like the difference between the aristocracy and the common working people, hers were small and delicate while Jin’s could stomp across the forest floor and charge at any enemy. She handled them with the same care, holding them in place when Ann wanted to draw them away, showering them in kisses despite shy protests. She let go and her lips journeyed back to Ann’s.

The arousal still persisted, and their caresses were still heavy, like a magnetism that drew the two lovers together, the thing that egged their curiosity onward. It was a dull, ever-present ache but not one to rob them of their free will. “Do you think this will end soon?” Ann purred into Jin’s neck as she held her. “I don’t mind this at all, but I think it be going away. Slowly.” She placed emphasis on the last word, expelling it softly from her lips. Ann met her gaze with a sudden determination, and Jin thought she knew what she wanted to say. But the words from Ann’s pale pink, thin lips aimed right for her core.  
Jin’s jaw slackened visibly and they both felt a flaring heat racing through their faces, but she was the only one to avert her eyes elsewhere.  
“I want to give you one last. I want to watch you when you come, and I want to feel you come.” Jin’s jaw slackened visibly and they both felt a flaring heat racing through their faces, but only Jin looked away. Suddenly the elf she had taken for an awkward girl incapable of letting go launched the most direct request she had even been met with. “Only if you’ll let me.” Ann had her palm flat against Jin’s taut belly and eager to do her bidding. She would’ve trembled with an excitement so great it could transmute into fear, but Jin was now her anchor. Looking at her was a relaxant for the mind, observing the slightest curl of the lips and hint of emotion in those amber eyes created a strong connection that not even she had the power to sever anymore. A nod came, and a smile followed. Ann had her focus on that beautiful face and the feeling of her heart in the troll’s firm, relentless grip that also melted it – melting through the fingers and saturating every part of her with a warmth not in any way sexual. She was scarcely aware of her own hand touching between Jin’s thighs, but she was acutely aware of how her brow furrowed, how her body winced and how her eyes clouded over and how her mouth opened only slightly to expel a sigh that kissed her skin.

Was she falling in love with the troll? She could feel her heart ache when her mind’s voice echoed the word, so she looked at Jin’s face lost in pleasure and it ached all the same. She hooked her two fingers and searched until she found a spot within her that made her sing as she pressed into it. She could only hope Jin felt the same, but did trolls act the same when it came to romance? Ann felt both shame and worry when she looked at the mesmerizing form that shivered and writhed, wet sheets clinging to her bare skin. Ann had an incredible desire for trolls and their intensity, their bodies and their hands held close to her, but never once did she consider any feelings until they now threatened to burst out from inside each time she looked at Jin’s face and imagined kissing her. What nonsensical thoughts that roamed through her head, trying to figure out what Jin liked and disliked, how her life looked like up until this point, and how it would feel to wake up and see her sleeping face. Was it selfish of her to ask for more when she thought she had it all?

Jin came with a silent whimper that locked her whole body in place, and Ann watched her for several moments, losing herself a bit. Though suddenly Jin brought their lips together and they hugged tight, not caring about any sweat, dirt, misplaced pillows or sheets surrounding them. Jin cupped the elf’s cheek and played with her golden hair, she smiled the way Ann did. “I know that face.” Jin leaned forward and kissed her, as tenderly as she ever could, and to Ann it had that much more weight behind it. “You’re in love.” Neither could break the deep gaze that followed. Ann heard only pounding and felt only warmth. “Are you?” Her voice sounded so tiny and pathetic compared to Jin’s musical purring that dominated the air. She wanted to lose herself in the troll, especially as she became aware of the stinging from her cheeks. Ann missed the confidence she had before to look Jin in the eye and forget herself for just a moment. “I knew the answer when ya told me what you wanted to say before.” They kissed again to Jin’s pace, but a blue hand on Ann’s shoulder conveyed a wish for honesty. “Tell me what you want to say”

“You are so beautiful and I love you so much but I don’t even know your name.” It was harder than she ever imagined to say exactly what she felt, but she looked Jin straight in the eye as she did; she deserved that and so much more. What that intangible feeling was she did not know. She wanted to give Jin everything, her body and soul to be closer if by just a fraction. “I love you truly but I know nothing about you. This is as much as we’ve ever talked and I can’t even focus on what you’re saying because I can’t stop looking at you.” Ann tried to curl up defensively but Jin only encouraged her with more kisses. “You know me well, and you will know me better and I will know you better. This is only the start, y’know.” Jin held her elf for the longest time and embraced the peacefulness wholly. “You’re like one of them porcelain dolls, it’s so different from everyone I met otherwise. Holding you feels like a blessing. You can feel my heart beating, can’t you?” They were so close, and Ann felt their hearts exchange rhythms just like Jin had said. Calm washed over the elf. There was no point in worrying when the connection was this strong. Jin smiled and Ann admired how her tusks remained where they were, it was achingly cute and she had an overpowering urge to kiss her, so she did and when Jin kissed her back it was her turn to smile. The kind of smile that comes from the most genuine places and is impossible to suppress. The ridiculous kind of smile that only another lover with that same kind of smile on their face would understand.

Night had fully enveloped the lands but neither stirred from the bed they had settled in. They talked in soft and hushed tones to each other, sometimes hugging, sometimes kissing, and sometimes laughing. Jin learned what she could about the elf, her childhood was extraordinary to her – no deaths, trials or hardships. She was the sheltered child of two equally sheltered parents, but Ann told her about the day that made her seek travel and the exotic sides of Azeroth. She had been a simple student of alchemy when a party of warriors made their way through the Silvermoon streets—several burly orcs in front with the smell of earth and death clinging to the battered steel fastened to their massive bulk. Then, at the rear, a vicious-looking troll woman a head taller than even the orcs followed. She carried herself with pride, and the plate armor didn’t seem to bother her at all. Her hair had been a fiery red; a mix of tall Mohawk and hair braided seemingly at random. Ann could even catch a glimpse of strange bones hanging from her head, but as she looked the troll stared her down with a gaze piercing enough to force her to look away, but she never forgot the total dominance and command her gaze exerted with nothing more than a quick turn of the head.

“You like trolls because one looked at ya?” Jin was confused.  
“It felt like more than a look. It was like a new world just opened up. Don’t take it as if I only love you for what you are.” Jin kissed her elf with determination, and Ann was surprised how simple acts can dispel all her thoughts so rapidly. “I don’t think that unless you tell me that is the reason. But you may have to prove it with more than words.” A grin stretched Jin’s lips and made Ann blush. She nudged Jin’s chest with her forehead, “I can’t believe you can even say things like that so calmly.” Jin’s chest rose and fell with her laughter; Ann let herself smile in secrecy, happier and safer than she could ever remember being. “If there’s one girl I should be open with it’s you. I think you were pretty open a while ago, too.” Jin barely felt the wispy strands of golden hair slip through her coarse fingers, it was light and fine, as if it would be moved by the faintest wind. “Let me look at you.” Ann brought her face level to Jin. How could it be so hard to look her lover in the eyes without feelings pangs of self-consciousness and having her cheeks dyed red? “I want us to be parters.” Ann opened. “We aren’t already?” Jin said with a smile, looking into the intensely green eyes in front of her. “I also mean business partners. Aren’t you curious what I made you drink?” Jin laughed again, partly because the past experiences were quite enjoyable to remember. “You have to explain that because I did not see that as business.” Ann shivered and crawled up closer to Jin as she felt her hand glide past her waist and rest on her thigh. She revealed the company she worked for and the potions, toxins and tonics she developed. It was her own idea to complete a “love potion” taking advantage of troll mating behavior and Jin would’ve been the culmination of that research. 

“So it was true! I thought you were just an elf looking for some taboo sex.” Jin laughed and Ann hid her face while listlessly punching away at her shoulders.  
“I can’t believe I looked like that.” She groaned in protest.  
“I think it ended very well, and the paths were still very similar.” Ann couldn’t disagree, but what made her despair was her own foolishness.  
“You said “partners”?”  
“I want to work with you to complete and sell the potion. I know it’ll be worth a lot and I know I want to work with you. I would never return to that Goblin-den now.” Jin liked the determination she saw in Ann as she spoke. It made her prettier and Jin felt her heart flutter. They shared a passionate kiss and Ann finally dared to touch Jin’s face. She even felt beautiful, the thick hair on her head, her pointed ears and trollish features were like heaven under her fingers. She let them run through her hair as they kissed, and left them there as they broke, flushed and breathing deeply.  
Jin nodded. “I don’t know how much use I can be to you when it comes to alchemy and business. All I know is battle.” Ann took the troll’s hand, much larger than her own. Strangely shaped with only three worn, strong fingers. She kissed each one with great adoration. “I love you and I want to be with you from now on. That’s as honest as I can get.” Jin’s hand now flattened Ann’s breast. She was hers. “I wasn’t planning on saying no.” Jin paused for a moment, sifting through recent events and memories before looking at the elf. “You still haven’t told me your name.”

Ann began to realize just how much they would have to work together for a relationship, for the words in her heart were hurting her, but might hurt even more once they leave. “Jin, what if this is the potion working?” Jin kept silent, she even felt the tension as the elf in her embrace tried to find the courage to speak again. “Is this love just the potion? What if we stop loving each other?” Ann was prone to worried looks but none of that seemed to affect her more fortitudinous lover. “Love takes time and effort, and I’m more than ready to spend all of both on you. I know I’m stronger than any potion, and so are you.” Jin’s words rang out and nothing dared to resist them. Ann’s worries suddenly felt so insignificant, even if those simple words would’ve never swayed a logical mind like hers otherwise. Unknowing, she had entrusted herself to Jin and it felt good. 

“Ithildess.” Ann said carefully, and with gaining confidence.  
“Zul’raja.” They both smiled wide, as one.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new couple set out to build their life together.

**Escape**

_She was kissing Ithildess. All around she recognized the blank faces of her village, just as they were before she left years ago. In the wide circle of trolls sat the elf’s parents, pale and cold, unmoving as she sensed their disapproving looks crawl over her skin. She found herself in a troll hut, a twisted, wooden and impossible large one, open to the air from the ambiguous landscape near the blood-colored horizon. It all made sense, Ithildess had grown to her own height and her arms wrapped like cushions and velvet, soothing her tired body. Her skin touched like soft fabrics and Zul’raja wanted to question none of it. Serenely surrender, that’s what she would do._

The strange scenery crumbled and gave way to an intrusive, golden ray of light; and so she fell. When Zul opened her eyes she was in a foreign bed, in a foreign house with the elf she had met the day before. Ithildess was her name, and through foggy slits of vision she saw her brilliantly green eyes burst with joy when she stirred. With groggy resolve she tried to rise from the bed, but was pulled down from behind to mewls of protest. There would be no early start to her day this time, electing instead to reacquaint herself with the woman next to her. Holding her achingly close again brought memories of last night, and Zul remembered in disbelief the frail creature next to her matching her own sexual animalism, feeding it and ardently surpassing it. But now it felt unreal to even lay a hand on Ithildess despite witnessing and experiencing her impassioned, fervid lovemaking. The troll smiled through her pearly tusks; it wasn’t lovemaking. It was fucking: wild and unrestrained, a battle for dominance and pleasure.

“Good morning.” Zul felt her voice, low from the morning stillness, rumble in her chest. Ithildess purred with content and kissed her lips with nothing but slow, drawling movements. From looking at the spot of bright on the floor, Zul tried to deduce just how far from morning they had landed, likely closer to afternoon by the looks of it. She let herself sink back into the mattress, and a natural rush of feelings formed a lazy smile. She gave Ithildess an affectionate squeeze, idly petting her head and preparing to return to dreaming.

She wasn’t aroused, that much was certain. Had the potion worn off while she slept, and if so, the love she felt for Ithildess might have disappeared along with the passion. She glanced down and saw only a frizzy tangle of golden hair nuzzled beside her shoulder, and the long, pointed ears she felt like touching. The potion had definitely left her system, Zul reasoned, watching the silently stirring elf and her set of bobbing ears. The sight provoked overwhelming, nervous flutterings that came in repeating waves from her heart, vividly crashing through her. It was love as she knew it; nervous excitement greatly overpowered by longing and devotion.

Is this not the kind of morning to strive for? Zul’raja knew for certain it wasn’t morning but all her senses told her otherwise.It was an awakening spelling out new love, when the whole world takes on a glowing warmth and all it takes to overwhelm the heart with love is for a sleeping lover to stir ever so gently in their mutual embrace.

Ithildess mumbled something she couldn’t understand, but she didn’t feel the need to answer. Her blue lips came down on that mess of golden hair, silently thanking her for the opportunity to see her tired, defenseless and unbearably captivating self. Simply learning the blood elf was not a morning person brought her joy, and if spending time with Ithildess meant defying what she’s wont to do, then she would hate all mornings for all eternity; just not this one. But a reverberating, violent pounding noise below shook them both out of their blissful fantasy. Zul sat upright with her eyes locked on the broken, now useless door to the bedroom. Someone was knocking, or rather launching their entire fist at the front entrance.  
“Ithildess! You’re late, open up or we’re coming in.” A threatening and confident voice had them both silenced, and a second had them at the edge of the bed. “You get no more late excuses.”

Something else hit the door with even greater force. The sound seemed to ignore walls and distance as it slammed into Zul’raja and Ithildess.  
“Who are they?” Zul hissed at her. By their voices she could only tell that they were male, an orc and a troll. Working with meticulous planning, stealth and ambushes in the field, she most of all disliked the receiving end of surprises.  
“I think they’re Scrolldigger’s men, they’re looking for my research results.” Ithildess got out of bed together with Zul, straggling after her pace.

“Do you know if they arm their goons? Have you ever seen them?” She looked out the window, then to Ithildess. They couldn’t escape by jumping outside, all their belonging were in the house and they’d be vulnerable out in the open, naked and unarmed. Not the mention the drop.  
“I don’t know, the ones at the labs are never armed.” Zul steadied her breathing gradually. They would eventually notice the mess downstairs, and the troll would surely smell what’s happened. If they went upstairs they’d notice the doors, too. Frustrated, she tapped her fingers to her furrowing brow. She could see no option but to fight both of them; no room for an ambush.

Her breathing caught speed again, as a tortured, splintering sound followed by a crash reached her. Her vision seemed to narrow as she stood hunched, yet a warm presence easily cut her through, and with a soft touch to her cheek everything became clear. She wasn’t alone, she had Ithildess who had a victorious look about her. “I have an idea, and it’s going to work.”  
Zul dropped her shoulders and took a breath to recompose. The idea of working together resurrected her frown. She loved Ithildess and there was no convincing her otherwise, but she hit a wall the moment she wanted to give her life and trust, as well as her love. It was a wall that loomed ahead, like the unknown swords whose footsteps punctuated each moment leading up to the last.

“Get in the first door before they make it up here, I’ll distract them past you and then you get up behind them. We have to hurry so go, now!” Zul stumbled out of the bedroom, pushed by Ithildess, she looked back and saw no one. Looking to her right, the two doors that were forced open the night before stood as they were. She dove silently into the room to her far right, when what she could only assume were steel-tipped leather boots knock on each step as they ascended. She hid well and could sense them reach the top when softer, naked steps padded out into the hall. There was silence, followed by a confounded, orcish grunt before she heard Ithildess. “I’m so sorry, I totally overslept! I have all my papers in here with me, come in!” Zul knew she could be awkward, but not deliberately ditzy to the point of fooling paid swords. But she was naked, their abnormal silence confirmed at least that to her.

Ithildess went back into the bedroom and two pairs of heavy steps followed. Zul pressed herself against the wall to get a quick glance of the men walking by, troll in front and the orc close behind, a small blessing. She saw sheathed weapons, none drawn; their chance of escape immediately looked more favorable if all went according to her experience. She began to stalk them with large strides, timing her steps as she gracefully slid out of the room. Because of the orc’s low height, Zul would be able to get her arms around his neck without losing her balance, if only she could ignore the noxious odor of grime and sweat, barely concealed by the stinging fumes of spirits rising like a fog around him. Like a hundred times before, her arm constricted around the throat, and she mechanically leaned back with a smooth motion, taking him with her. She then jerked her torso sharply, and an unmistakable pop ended his life.

Ithildess wasn’t there to see her and she felt relieved for it. The orc slumped awkwardly in her grip as all strength left him at once. His neck was twisted and his head flopped languidly as Zul pushed his body towards the male troll, who had turned around with his eyes dead on Zul. “I know I smelled a female, and so strong!” He drew the dagger from its sheath, and stepped over the dead orc. Without a weapon she was clearly at a disadvantage, and the narrow corridor limited her movement. He had only made his second step past the orc when he lost his balance, and with a gurgling from deep in his throat he fell forward, revealing the jagged shards of ice embedded through the dark leather tunic and jutting out grotesquely. He fumbled blindly to lift himself off the ground, it seemed like minutes before his efforts weakened and a last, wet sigh rattled from his mouth.

Looking back up, she noticed Ithildess, wide-legged in a strange stance and lowering her outstretched arm. That insurmountable wall between love and trust had already begun to crack and her image of the elf as as powerless girl to be protected shattered with her confident grin. Zul took the orc’s dagger, the weapon was small but lunged into the right place it’s effectiveness was undeniable. They edged down the stairs with Zul in front, each step a challenge and a danger as the front door slowly came into view. Near the lock were several deep gashes in the wood, and the final push had almost broken the door in half as it had fallen inwards; yet the bottom floor was as silent as the upper. The living room was directly to the right from the bottom of the staircase, and they were forced to inch past the broken entrance as they scanned the outside for a any presence.

The goblin’s thugs had left the room just as it was the day before; Ithildess’ clothes lay in a pile on the floor while Zul’s armor and weapons were propped up by the corner, thankfully untouched. They dressed quickly, the unspoken consensus among them being a quick escape and regroup. Ithildess put on her lab coat after explaining, “It’s the only one I have.” while Zul tightened the leather straps and metal buckles holding her armor in place; a sturdy collection of plate, chainmail and boiled leather leather for mobility. There were no golden crests or guild emblems, no dragonhide cloaks or jagged shoulderpads, only a scabbard for her sword and a holsters for her sidearm, all painted in camouflaging colors. She was aware, more than anyone, of the impression her equipment gave to others: a rank-and-file, someone not worth the effort. The very effect she had striven for.

Looking to the examination chair, she recalled her own hazy memories the sensation of tenderness that they summoned; Ithildess was a spellcaster in more ways than one, Zul mused to herself. With only a small bottle and her own body she had connected them to each other, and that connection revealed more of itself to her as time and moments passed. She looked at the elf, this woman who unwittingly or not brought them together looked to her with a wonderful boldness as she headed for the outside. Zul’raja swelled with excitement and joy, but would keep it safe until they were alone again. When they were, she would huddle close and talk through the night, and she would ask her about her life, and everything that made Ithildess the one she had fallen for. But for now, she would keep those questions deposited until time allowed to learn everything about her.  
  
Ithildess managed to turn before he struck. The sharpened edge of the axe attached to the third man’s rifle made contact with her hastily erected mana shield, making a strange, warped metallic sound as it connected and sent the rifle’s barrel aiming for the ceiling as it bounced. She was pushed down by the momentum and power behind the blow, and landed on the floor with a hard, fleshy thump. Zul froze, arms idly at her sides when she saw her fall. Next, she watched herself race past a bullet scraping her arm and into the human that had entered the home. There was a tranquil atmosphere surrounding her disembodied conscious as it hovered behind her own shoulder, and in that sea of calm, cruel noises forced their way forward and exploded around her like bombs rending the silence. First the human’s surprised yell and what she knew to be her own rage-filled scream, then the crash of metal as they both fell. The fierce charge had knocked the air out of him, and instead of reaching for his rifle within arms reach he panicked and locked his arms over his face. From what she could see he was a muscular man, possibly the leader of the small party judging by his armor, dark chainmail reinforced with hardened leather patches, far more protected than his friends. She held him down with brute strength and straddled his chest, preventing him from either rising or breathing.

Now the calm began to sway and warp, like a ship’s bow in a storm, swaying and swaying until the sheer force of the waves collapses it. From the side she saw a face she didn’t recognize, her own but twisted with horrid rage as her entire body trembled. Exerting every bit of strength in every motion she brought her closed fists down on the man’s guard. Her fury was devastating, and her legs tightened and cramped impossibly around his ribcage so his legs kicked and screamed a frantic rhythm into the wooden floor. His will began to slowly weaken, until Zul knocked the feeble arms aside and brought a hammer-like strike down on his temple, one after another, severely denting his forehead and features, until she could no longer see any resemblance of a face. He stopped moving, and control was returned to her from one blink to the next, but her rage incinerated everything and flowed like molasses, compelling her to strike him even as his ribcage gave and his upper body compressed sickeningly.

Zul’raja stopped only when she lacked the strength to lift her arms, or keep any anger ignited. With her eyes closed, she rolled off the brutalized body of the human and moved to Ithildess, who writhed on the floor, eyes shut into tiny slits and face contorted in pain.  
“You’re alive.” She wanted to worry but there was no energy, she knew everything would be fine.  
“I think I’m gonna die!” Ithildess strained and groaned as she held her chest protectively. No blood through the clothing, but when she pulled her vest aside an angry patch of red near her shoulder glared back, within two days it would turn purple from the bruising. Zul furrowed her brow, unwillingly reminding herself of the pain.  
“You’re not going to die, but I know that hurts. You just have to bear it out.” She gave her forehead a kiss, and Ithildess settled down in her lap. She went to pat her head when she noticed the layer of what was the intruder’s face. Zul didn’t believe in image, or “striking fear into the hearts of your enemies”, but the most convenient way to clean herself was her own armor.

“It feels like a kodo ran into me.” She managed to press out.  
“I know. Take your time, but we should go as soon as possible. And you should probably avoid bumping into things.” She had had enough of this house, the good memories were buried under three layers of death. She led Ithildess outside and to the nearby bank of a slow river. They sat together in the autumn grass; behind them the house stood silent and the dirt path snaking its way through the foothills to reach it lay desolate. Zul had every intention to stay right by Ithildess, but she needed to move them both. The faster they were gone the better; she stood up and offered her hand.  
“Let me get my bearings first.” With help, she managed to stand up, getting a good look at Zul, face soaked in sweat, arms at her sides and blood on both her face and armor.  
“You’re injured!” She gasped suddenly, reaching for Zul’s arm where a bullet had cut her but quickly gave up and winced in pain.  
Being just as surprised, Zul slowly came to accept what had happened: she had gone into a berserker state and lost control of herself. Berserker rage was not a subject she liked to talk about, and a state she wanted to avoid slipping into. To her relief it seemed she would be spared from explaining.  
“Just be still, and don’t you dare help.” Zul looked on as Ithildess tore a big strip of cloth from the coat, grimacing as she lifted both hands to wrap the improvised bandage around the bleeding wound. It was the moment she realized that even if Ithildess had seen her berserker state, it would not destroy them.

“I love you.” Zul heard herself saying; overcome by sudden emotion. The elf stopped her hands and met with her eyes. “I love you too.” She sighed before they kissed and did away with the previous dangers.  
“Tarren Mill shouldn’t be far from here, let’s stop there before we move on.”  
“To where?” Ithildess replied with another kiss, one full of implications.  
“To where we will find allies.”

 

**Flight**

Zul’raja was not fond of death. The concept itself was perfectly reasonable, as long as one can acknowledge death as a necessity of life. What Zul saw however, was a different death. From far up above the spiny trees of Silverpine Forest, she saw no life except the huge, saddled bat that flexed its webbed hands that others were quick to call wings. As if all life had fled, what remained were husks between life and death, unwanted by both. As she supported Ithildess sitting in front, even the sky was out to challenge the land below with its bleakness, blackened and cold.

Following a warm meal of uncertain origin, the two had paid their way to a riding bat that would take them to the nearby town of Brill. A once small cluster of dilapidated buildings not far from where the ruins of Lordaeron still rotted away above the Undercity; a fitting name for a place that should never see daylight. Traveling deeper into Forsaken territory wasn’t the only reason for Zul’raja’s foul mood. She had pretended to not know their final destination, but the moment those swords broke into the house in Hillsbrad she knew exactly where they would go. Not even a day after promising each other’s honestly she had concealed the truth and her secret weighed like a jagged rock in her chest. She held Ithildess firmer to herself until she heard a quick yelp of pain; she managed to feel worse.

“I’m so sorry, I forgot.” She held her as gently as she dared, until the elf forced her arms tighter herself.  
“Keep holding me, Zul.” Her voice was almost carried away by the wind before it could reach her.  
“Because I like it, and because I’ll probably fall if you don’t.” A kiss came down on her wounded arm.

The bat made its descent on the outskirts of Brill, behind a building recently erected as a part of the Forsaken’s sudden arms race. Another, much larger building, made it impossible to land any closer, its roof occupied by metal rods tipped with spheres that either sucked the lightning from the very air or generated it somehow, she had no way of knowing. The entire structure belonged to the Apothecary Society and stank of death. As both their feet touched the ground, she took Ithildess’ hand and made for the zeppelin towers a short walk away. Luckily, those did not belong to the Forsaken and were instead managed and guarded by Goblins. Zul hardly trusted the creatures, but she would rather deal with ones she could punt instead of those able to raise her from the dead.

“I think you know where we’re going.” Ithildess mused. Zul’raja came to a stop underneath the first tower, whose zeppelins crossed entire continents.  
“I do, you’re right. You’ll know once we’re off this cursed ground.” She didn’t want to say more, at least not with her feet still bound to this frigid soil with who knows what dwelling underneath. Ithildess smiled sympathetically, nodding to Zul whose brow had scrunched with a distrust and aversion as she looked around with caution.

“I want to hug you until you break but the best I can do right now is this.”  
Zul overtook Ithildess by a head even when bent down, but nothing stopped her from embracing the troll with her one good arm and giving her as many comforting kisses as they had time for.  
“I don’t want to stay here.” She stated as flatly as she was able to, hoping the chilling unease crawling up her spine didn’t color her voice. Ithildess pulled at her arm, moving up the stairs to the boarding platform above.  
“Me neither, then. Come on.”

Moving hand-in-hand they scaled a flight of stairs and several landings clinging to the outside of the tower. The edge of the landing dock had guards posted on either sides, a necessary neutral party of goblins. One of them looked to the horizon where a shape was taking form and moving towards them.  
“Airship arriving in the north tower, next stop is Grom’Gol!” The screeching of the imp rang out and Zul shivered with displeasure. The large craft was a boat-like menace mainly built of wood and held in the air by a floating balloon restrained by nets and rope. It had taken Zul many weeks before she had convinced herself to take the trip to Durotar in one of them, and even then she could not understand how it worked despite her experiences telling her it did.

It made a silent stop and hovered in the air as they boarded, so far they were the only passengers and it seemed like that wouldn’t change. It was late and at this hour travelers around here were rare. A visit to the captain and 30 silvers later, Zul held a small, bronze key that unlocked their hut. It was something she had never done before as most who travel by zeppelin pass the time under deck instead of renting a room. Just as the captain had said through his browning grin as he counted coins, it was furnished with one bed, a small chair and table, but no window. No wonder the option was so unpopular.

With the door closed behind them, they sat down on the bed, and were rocked gently to the side as the engine burst into life and the zeppelin began its overnight journey. Zul turned to Ithildess, already looking up with her verdant eyes that brought her a soothing peace. In silence, they watched each other until the elf shyly smiled and focused on the their intertwined fingers, pale against indigo.  
“I like your hands.” Ithildess was soft-spoken as she held onto Zul.  
“My hands are big and made for combat.” She flexed her three fingers while lithe hands cared for them. “Yours are small, soft and made for gentler things.”  
“Not true.” Ithildess let go for the briefest moment. “Those hands of yours are the gentlest I know. And I happen to think they’re very beautiful.” She danced her fingers over her troll’s armored forearm. “Before we even begin to talk you need to get out of that.”

With a few undone clasps and some pulling, she was reduced to a simple cotton undershirt and pants, which she noticed was getting the attention of Ithildess. Quiet fell upon their shared hut once more, and the distant grumbling of the engine propelling them forward framed their moment together and sealed it from the rest of the ship. They scooted off the edge of the bed to sit together, leaning against the wall and each other.

“I want you to meet my village.” She looked to Ithildess. She saw her chest rise and her mouth open, then close again as she pondered.  
“Your village?”  
“I want you to come to my village in Stranglethorn, to meet the trolls I grew up with and look for some help among one of them.” She looked her in the eyes, she would get the absolute truth and with complete honesty. Their faces were close, and she noticed the elf’s cheeks dyed in pink, and heat began to rise in her own. She took to heart the details of her face, but large eyes that burned like fel magic drew her in and she felt herself swirling, unable to think. Her features were softer compared to her mental image of blood elves. She had high cheekbones but smooth and kind, as was her nose and chin, wonderfully rounded compared to the icy and sharp features of her kin in which she sensed only repulsive self-importance. Zul took special interest to her lips, soft like the rest of her but possessing a powerful spell of attraction that demanded her attention.

She came to, and what was once an innocent blush was a now a burning. She had fallen prey to fel eyes, drawn into them; or perhaps it was their faces dividing the distance between them, and their breaths falling hotly over glossy lips the moment they were brought together. A moment of time was cut out, and they were lost and brought back.

“I wanted to tell you sooner but I was too worried about getting away from Lordaeron.”  
“I’d love to see the village you grew up in.” She paused, “Did you think I wouldn’t want to come with you?”  
“Yes.” She nodded her head, feeling a relief instead of shame. “I want you to come with me, Ithildess. More than anything, I want you beside me tomorrow.” Zul saw a bead of shimmer in her eye, blinked away hastily.  
“Believe me, I would pounce you right now, you big goof.” They clashed in a cathartic kiss, nearly butting heads but hardly minding.

“Help me get this off, quick.” Ithildess climbed onto Zul’s lap and kneeled facing her, riding and raining down intermittent, feverish kisses between the troll’s clumsy attempts to unbutton the last few hindrances. Between one kiss and the flick of a tongue to her tusk, the last button was torn from the shirt, and it parted. Seeing her bare, milky white skin again made her breath stop short. Her taut belly and the sides of her breasts fed a fiery imagination and the white, cotton shirt that hid the rest had her fully transfixed. Now trembling fingers gave it the last nudge it needed, and the final layer slid soundlessly off her shoulders to pool behind her.  
“Ithildess…” she mouthed, breathless as she drank in the sight of her with a clear mind.  
“Do you think I’m beautiful, even with this?” She gestured towards her shoulder where the bruise had taken on an ill purple and swelled up.

Zul did think she was beautiful, even with the bruise she snapped the reins that made her heart break out sprinting. She guided the elf closer into another kiss. That was how she would proclaim her beauty, to establish that fact with her lips until either of them doubting it would be a ridiculous notion. Zul traced a path with her lips, falling from her jaw, treading her clavicle with care and blowing a thin wind over her contusion. The soft swell of her breast yielded immediately to her, and Ithildess’ fel-green eyes shut slowly as she sighed. Fingers urgently grasped a handful of her coarse, red hair the moment she took a pert nipple into her mouth, using her tongue to prod and lick. She rediscovered her body to the increased heaving of her breath, sometimes catching in her throat and allowing a fraction of a moan past open lips as all parts of her breasts were caressed by the troll’s tusk-tipped mouth.

“Does it hurt?” She whispered shivers into Ithildess who craned her neck as Zul placed her sensual marks onto her skin.  
“It feels perfect.” She breathed, pulling with one hand to get her closer somehow.  
“I’ll be careful.” Zul said absentmindedly, unsure if she could promise that as she licked and nipped with renewed fervor, and sweet, saccharine moans began slipping through the elf’s defenses.  
“Don’t. Please…” Those were too many words, lost among pants and pleasured whines. Zul was tugged up by the hair and kissed with a roughness that she wished for to always be this surprising. There was another tug, this time at her undershirt, the last barrier that Ithildess fixed her eyes on even as her hand was led underneath. Later, she thought it strange how one elf could rile her up enough and do away with her patience. Ripping the fabric from her body became the obvious choice—she all but begged to be touched and failed to keep the expected, bright moan from voicing itself when Ithildess’ smoldering mouth formed a seal on her neck.

“I want you to touch it.” Ithildess returned the shivers with the magic of her seductive whispers.  
“Finger me, Zul. I need to feel your hands on me.” She hissed and brought her teeth down on her ear, biting teasingly. Electrified was far from adequate to describe how the ravenous energy raced through Zul and took each word and each sound; dripping with salaciousness, as an absolute command, as if spoken from the mouths of the Loa themselves. Through the haze, she could sense Ithildess’ mouth part once again as she brought it to her ear, so close the faintest smack and breath from her lips sent shockwaves reverberating into the deepest parts of her being.  
“ _Fuck me._ ” Two syllables. Measured, planned, expelled with the softest whisper but carrying a slow-burning, wanton timbre that made her world spin and her will unravel like a frayed knot in the arms of the elf.

Zul did her best to subdue her feral appetite for Ithildess, and gingerly laid her down onto the bed. With hips raised she slid out of her pants; lean, naked legs a new venue for Zul to kiss and nip her way up. On her knees, she arched her back like a panther, stalking towards the rousing smell that invaded her head. “Ya underwear be missin’.” She purred through a thick troll accent, mesmerized by the slick and puffy sex she had exposed. Ithildess said she wanted her fingers, but her mouth was watering faster than the rapidly ripening center before her. Her head spun; every motion felt delayed as her focus turned to near-obsession.

“I wanted to—“ She stopped and voiced a groan that masked the sound of the ship’s engine as Zul pressed her face to her core, bathing in her wetness and letting it spill into her mouth and down the edges of her chin. The elf’s quivering thighs closed around her with a vice-like grip and her body went rigid as she finished her messy sampling with a sopping kiss to her clit. As the fire raged, Zul tended it with a winding trail of imaginative detours, laid down with the tip of her tongue gliding effortlessly over her elf’s willowy figure, feeling faint tremors under the skin following her wherever she went.  
“I was so close.” She protested, face still flushed and moist with sweat.  
“I know.” Her soft, sultry whisper wormed its way into Ithildess’ ear: revenge almost as satisfying as the taste of her.

She kissed the panting elf with carnal abandon, searching out her tongue and sharing her erotic essence while her battle-made hand tapped across her stomach, each tap eliciting shudders of heavenly expectations. Without warning she cupped her sex in the palm of her hand, covering it fully and grinding; gathering continuing rivulets of moisture on her fingers, and gently driving the base of her hand against her clitoris in excruciatingly deliberate circles. Zul felt nails on her back, entrenching themselves deeper though as reacting to the incredible tension growing and threatening to burst inside Ithildess’ stiffening body. She tried her overflowing, pulsating entrance with her fingertip, meeting resistance from her walls as she ever so slightly prodded and twisted against it.

“I’m gonna enter you, okay?” She murmured and kissed along Ithildess’ tense jawline. She nodded hastily, with eyes closed tight and lips scarcely a thin, pale line.  
“I don’t think I can last much longer if you do.”  
“Hold it for as long as you can, it’ll feel even better.” Zul could feel Ithildess relax around her fingertip; yet a final nudge and they immediately contracted around her first knuckle as the rest of her tensed and squirmed to keep the inevitable at bay. Zul felt the pressure that was building inside through her hot, inner walls. She held her finger still but Ithildess had no say as she bucked her hips off the bed, taking the second knuckle. The pleasure was palatable as she watched the elf lose herself, but something primal was coaxed from its depths as the sharp, elven nails that dug into her back for support etched a four-lined mark of red and blood into her skin. She didn’t believe herself moaning despite hearing it; the pleasure and stinging pain she got from the scratches thrilled her more than she knew sex possibly could.

Control wasn’t taken from her the way a heat would steal away all free will; her arousal was pure and bright, and focused only on Ithildess. The elf with the fel eyes that gazed into her spirit and beyond, while sparks seemed to ignite and shimmer within that endless green. She wanted to make her come. Before she could eat, breathe or keep living, she would make Ithildess truly hers. Though her fingers were calloused from gripping forged steel, she searched for that ridged spot hidden somewhere along the upper wall, curling her finger and inching it along her heated flesh to the whimpering joy of a trembling Ithildess.

Suddenly a jolt of pain bit sharply into her back as her finger passed over a specially ribbed point, yielding and faintly tender when she pressed her finger into it and thrusted; and as she reached absolute peak, Ithildess became stuck in a moment of petrous stillness. Zul kept her finger inside as Ithildess’ surrendered to her body’s pleading call, crying hoarsely as she twisted and thrashed on the bed to wring every morsel of pleasure from her orgasm; and Zul felt jets of warm fluid drench her open palm each time those twitching muscles vigorously clamped on from every direction. Watching Ithildess come, and forget the world around her brought awareness back to her own pleasure. Rising and crashing in one seamless motion, she was brought over the edge by the scraping pain and her lover’s unending climax. The engine hummed on indifferently though they shook and cried out together, closer than they had ever been. It was paradise: she had met complete, radiant rapture and from that point on she saw her life with Ithildess as clear as the chilling airs over the Alterac Mountains. She wanted nothing more than to rest, and hold onto her new future.

“Ow, ow, ow…” Ithildess sobbed between fits of laughter, smiling from pointed ear to ear with tears pooling in her emerald eyes. She hurt, but she didn’t care.  
“The bruise?” Zul rolled onto her side and watched as she tried to stop herself from laughing, and an indescribable happiness began to bubble its way out of her chest as well.  
“It hurts every time I laugh!” She howled and curled up against Zul’s chest to try stifling herself, instead coming up with a series of snorts and sputters that made the troll join in happily. They laughed at nothing in particular. Each other, themselves, the draining pleasure, it was all funny and beautiful and perfect.

They lay spent, huddled together in an embrace of kisses and muted giggling.  
“But why did it start hurting in the first place?”  
“You made me feel so good I couldn’t control myself. I tensed up really badly.” Ithildess was met with a caring peck to her forehead.  
“You did a number on me too, you know.” Zul gestured to her back, littered with small, crescent wounds and scratches where the elf’s nails had reached, having since stopped bleeding. She kissed away a guilty look from her face and encouraged the elf to touch her own creations. “It was like I felt your pleasure when you did that, I lost it completely.”  
“You liked it?” She looked wide-eyed back at Zul, bewildered.  
“It is the sexiest thing anybody has ever done to me.” She bit down on Ithildess’ lower lip, grinning and bringing their lips together. “I love you so much, Ithildess. It feels like you’ve changed me completely in just one day.”  
“I love you, Zul’raja. I love you, I love you. It’s not any stupid potion or the sex; I love you.”

Their admiration continued silently, in a language only known to two lovers, with affection and deep gazes replacing words and sounds. Zul had much to rejoice about. After years spent traveling she could return to her home village with pride, then build a future together with Ithildess. She searched her face and fell willingly into those two, vast pools of sparkling viridian. She saw goals in her eyes, life and a shared destiny. Zul’raja was determined to wake up every day to this sight.

“You want to go outside? I wonder what the view is like.” Ithildess sat up slowly, with a hand on Zul’s shoulder.  
“I bet the view is wonderful. Let’s, but we should dress warm first.” She helped Ithildess out of bed and they got dressed in their wrinkled, old clothes. Looking around the room briefly, she took the bed’s covers and wrapped it around herself and her elf. Locking the cabin door she found the halls empty and dark, except for a whirring lamp on the wall encased in thick glass. As they walked the wooden construction creaked plaintively as the ship swayed to the side, likely pushed by an angry wind. They climbed the final steps with their fingers clasped, and the chill of night high above the ground struck them. The deck was as empty as below, except for a warm light shining through a dirty window where the captain likely napped while the navigator did the work.

They made their way portside and took a seat on a box sitting against the parapet. The Eastern Kingdoms sprawled out before them, behind a veil of blackness that revealed scarcely anything but vague shapes. Where the darkness ended and the sky began, the horizon split their view in two: stars crowded the cloudless night sky and each provided a small dot of light. Combined, they created a boundless map of the heavens, the darkness paradoxically illuminating the light far beyond reach. Zul’raja and Ithildess sat arm-to-arm under a simple down cover, tightening their held hands as if to confirm they were still there and alive. She looked to the elf and the stars reflected in her eyes, and her heart ached so bad she felt like crying.

“What do you see, Zul?”  
She pondered the question. In truth she saw night and darkness; she saw the stars and the moon in its early cycle, the vague shape of the land below and the parapet preventing anyone from walking right off the ship’s edge. Zul couldn’t recall when she had last sat like this, under a night sky, with no intention other than to observe. Ithildess had led her up here, and now she asked her a question that in her mind would be obvious, yet she struggled to find an answer. She wasn’t blind, for she saw the same scene as her. Did she want another response? She started thinking about their destination as she idly stroked the elf’s hand with her thumb; not only for tomorrow, but the day after and for years to come. Their life together played in vignettes in her mind’s eye: she had found her answer.

“I see us.”  
“Us?” Ithildess turned to face her.  
“We could go anywhere and do anything. We have all of Azeroth under our feet and when I look out there, I see our lives.” She clasped those tiny hand in hers. Something else needed to be said, Zul felt it threaten to burst out but she couldn’t allow it. Their romance was still young and perhaps not meant to last, as horrible of a thought as it was.  
“You have someone else to say.” Ithildess watched her carefully, and she realized she had been frowning the entire time.  
“It’s too early. I can’t.”  
“I think it’s a bit too late for that.” She retorted. The vow of honesty made itself apparent once more; it was for the best.  
“Right now,” she began, “I want us to spend our lives together, Ithildess. I can’t help but want to wake up next to you every morning. I want you to be the reason for who I am.” She felt her eyes sting and she tried to blink it away, but Ithildess was there, reaching up and kissing her wet-streaked cheek.  
“Zul…” Their foreheads met, and all she could see were those green eyes. There was no night sky in any world, or any reality, beautiful enough to replace what she saw.  
“What is it with you and making me want to jump you?” She laughed softly, like a comforting melody. “I want nothing more than to spend my life with you. We’ll fight and make it work no matter what, because there’s no way I’m losing what we have now.”

Zul would fight. Money or power be damned, she had everything she wanted, and she knew where the first part of their adventure would take them.  
“Let’s take the company. Let’s send that Goblin packing and sell our own potions. I’d like to pay him back for those goons as well.” For Ithildess, Zul was motivated to do anything. If she wanted to make a love potion to sell, she would give her a business giant whose shoulders she would stand on.  
“Are you serious? What if there are more hired swords there?” She said, but Zul waved away her concern like it was nothing more than harmless air.  
“That’s why we’re heading to my village. I know only strong warriors that I would trust with my own life. We can do this.” Zul assured, with all her confidence. She had the strength of five grown men at that moment, and with a group of trolls behind her it’d be a small thing to oust such a small creature.  
“Zul, you’re amazing! I don’t have any words. Imagine all the experiments I could do with his equipment, imagine the gold just raining in!” Ithildess smiled with her entire being as she lit up.  
“I want to make your wish into reality. I want you to be the happiest person in all the known and unknown worlds. I love you.”  
“I love you too. We’re gonna make this work.”

It was as it should be. Ithildess with her head resting on her arm and Zul holding her underneath the stars and heavenly bodies. Below lay a continent just for the two of them; and ahead, their future.

The engine continued to work tirelessly turning the propeller, filling the silent air with sound and moving the ship ever further south. And as the moon rose to its zenith, the deck was once again empty.


	3. A Home for Two pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ithildess finds herself in Zul'raja's home, the village of Raja'Mai, and she begins to learn more about her.

Ithildess felt her stomach rise and drop again to the slow bounce of the jungle raptor, as it trampled and sunk its claws into the ill-defined path it treaded. It wound its way through the trees seemingly at random, but the mount was as agile as it was imposing, cutting across the jungle floor with ease, even when the beaten path became completely obscured. Claustrophobia under the open sky was a strange sensation to her, if it had been at all possible to look up and see islands of white drifting across the open blue, but in the jungle it was dark. Dark and damp. Her leggings chafed against the saddle and she was certain nowhere on her body had been left dry; sweat matted her hair, rained down her forehead, stung her eyes and made the clothes on her back stick like a thick film to her skin. All kinds of trees and plant-life encroached on their riding party. Long, curved trees that tapered off at the top and opened its crown like a parasol, snake-like trees that had climbed along the bark of another to reach daylight, trees with massive girth that shot up far beyond the canopy, and even trees barbed with spikes and murderous saplings struggling for the top, as one tree had fallen with age and left its reservation in the sun.

With every sure stride the raptor took, Ithildess felt her bruise throb with pain, but she kept silent. No use complaining when she was sure Zul suffered just as much, judging by her equally sweaty self and her annoyed, labored breaths, as if searching the air for something but always coming up short: the air around them was both warm and heavy with moisture, and still like a crypt, but at this stage she would’ve greatly preferred cold, dead halls to Stranglethorn. Ithildess pressed the canteen between her legs, icy cold and dotted with drops of water provided some relief from the humidity. She took a swig and the coolness passing her lips tasted sweeter than ever.

“Have some water, Zul.” Ithildess said and refilled the steel canteen with conjured water, chilled by arcane magic. She touched it to the troll’s back and she yelped, then sighed, took the canteed and drank deep, holding the reins with one hand until the container rang empty.  
“That must be the best water I have ever had,” handing it back, she gave a deep sigh and a loving squeeze to Ithildess’ thigh. “I thought I’d still be used to this heat, but it’s become far fiercer than I ever remembered it being.”  
“Why is it so hot?” Ithildess asked. Zul had long since discarded her armor into the leather packs on the side of the raptor, and her shirt, translucent with wetness, clung to her back, flushed darker blue and muscled and strong. Ithildess kissed between her shoulder blades and the humidity suddenly wasn’t as unbearable.  
“The trees trap the air and the water. No wind blows here, the air is stagnant. Old leaves and plants rot under our feet and adds to that, think of it as riding inside a glass bowl.”  
“You know so much about these jungles.”  
“Not as much as I used to,” Ithildess could hear her the smile and the voice weighed by nostalgia as she started, “we used to hunt in the jungles all the time. Our village found or made our own passages for animals to travel by. The jungles are difficult to traverse, and an animal will always seek the route that is simplest; clearings, little dirt paths, or close to waterways. Knowing the jungle is key to not starving.”  
Ithildess felt herself taken by Zul’s words and she imagined the scene before her; a hunting party combing the jungles, thinking like an animal and moving along their nature-made paths. She hugged her close despite the heat, she was her hunter troll, the capable and dependable. The knowledgeable, strong and bold. In Zul she could find her own strength—at least to beat this thick air.

Armed with a curiosity from Zul’s stories and the feeling of her returning to her home, in body and spirit, Ithildess asked, “What’s your village like, Zul?” Share with me everything you are, she thought.  
“For one, there are no trees in or around the village, so the air won’t suffocate you,” she joked. “We made huts, walls and palisades with the wood when our numbers grew, and we built along the beach.”  
“Beach?” Ithildess parroted, voice bright with wonder.  
“You’ll love it. Sparkling water with plenty of fish and a long stretch of shoreline. We get food from the sea and from the jungle, and water from the rains. You’ll like it for another reason but you should find that out for yourself,” she could her Zul’s mischief color her voice. “I can’t wait to show you around.”

They arrived to a deep cut in the jungle; a shallow, rocky stream beset on both sides by muddy slopes where a great river had once split the land. Zul leaned back and so did Ithildess as the raptor slid down to the riverbank, uneven ground littered with damp boulders and thick, smooth gravel. Now Ithildess knew why raptors were the mount of choice in these parts, its claws gave it steady footing where everything seemed to be slippery. Even uphill it left terrifyingly deep marks in the wet soil, and in a few strides they had passed to the other side and were greeted by another path; well-trampled by both troll and animal, wide enough for one full-grown mount to pass without its rider getting pummeled by leaves and loose vines. Not far away, the sound of drums rumbled through the mass of trees, the bass resonating with Ithildess and making its way through leaves and trunk, still air and calling birds. The sound was exhilarating, and marked to Ithildess the threshold into Zul’raja’s world.

“Is that them? Why are they playing?”  
“They must’ve sensed our coming.” Zul took the reins with one hand and pointed to the ground. Next to a rock a wooden totem had been planted, and the empty eyes of a tribal mask seemed to follow them. Voodoo magic, she thought as her heart raced. A real troll village was somewhere beyond the trees, and it was getting closer.  
“Are you sure they’ll like me?” She asked. Sin’dorei weren’t always welcome, a magic addiction didn’t invite any friendships, much less so when it came to the previously fel-tainted orcs.  
“They’ll like you, you’re strong and wonderful. If someone doesn’t, you prove to them that they should.” The confidence placed in Ithildess by her lover troll made her beam each time; she would prove to be one to trust.

The trees began to thin out, and rays of sun and direct, clean heat reached into the jungle. The path had widened and three raptors would’ve been able to ride abreast here. A palisade with sharpened tops became visible through the last of the trees, each pole thick and sturdy, fronted by a dry moat dug into the earth, reinforced by sharp stakes buried deep and dense. The muddy road led to what was the front gate, a raised portion of the wooden wall connected to a frame that lowered from the other side. Two male trolls came to meet them, their spears thankfully pointing up rather than forward. The shorter guard had his hair patted down by a curiously tight-fitting helmet of red leather reinforced with metal studs arranged in guarding patterns. His face was a mass of deep grooves from where his eyes scowled suspiciously, and his wide mouth strained into a rigid line. Both wore little armor: leather harnesses, a furred loincloth, shoulderguards of wood shaped like the mask Ithildess had been pointed to, ankleguards of studded leather like the helmet of the first troll. The older guard commanded a tall, faded green mohawk, choosing instead a strange headwear that seemed to her a headband, but had protection for the sides of his face as well as an assortment of long, black feathers and sharpened claws of Vale raptors. The older had a glance at Zul, and his eyes went big; he slapped the broad end of the spear against the younger one’s flank and hissed angry words in Zandali, the troll tongue.

“Zul’raja!” He shouted, followed by quick smatterings that Ithildess had no hope of catching. Zul replied with a few quick words of her own and leaned to the side, revealing Ithildess, soaked through and hair matted and mussed.  
“Sin’dorei.” His voice was impossible to read, but a few words more and Zul was on the ground, helping Ithildess off the saddle. They could distrust her all they wanted, just no more riding or the skin of her thighs would likely erupt in blisters, she thought as her thighs ached. Zul took her hand and squeezed, unpleasantly clammy but she had missed it nonetheless.  
“Kiss me,” Zul said with a sweet, gentle voice. Ithildess stood and stared.  
“They think you’re my prisoner, so pull me down and kiss me. Show them I’m yours,” she flashed a grin, just quick enough to catch and for her elf heart to jolt to life. Prove to them, Zul had said. She reached around Zul’s neck and took a handful of her collar, jerking her down like an impatient lover and holding her in place as she robbed a kiss, forceful and demanding as she could be. She had learned to tell the different textures of their affections apart, Zul wished the guards away and for their privacy, Ithildess translated from her lips. Silence blanketed her and for a moment only they existed. Reluctantly she broke away, Zul blushing bluer and having a curl on her lips that Ithildess knew well.

The two guards erupted in laughter, slapping Zul on the back and leading Ithildess inside by the shoulder. The trolls exchanged a few words, then she turned to Ithildess, “We’ll get changed and have the shaman see us, then we’ll finally settle down.” Ithildess relished the thought of dry clothes as well as a naked Zul, even if it only meant a minute together.

As they passed the gate, Ithildess stumbled as she took in the sights of Zul’s village, or at least a part of it. A breeze from the sea cooled the sweat on her forehead, and further away she saw slivers of azure ocean lap in waves against the white sands. Huts, cooking tables, meat racks and braziers were strewn along the shore, just out of reach of the sand, and tendrils of smoke striped the blue sky all the way to the far end of the shore where the palisade ended in a guard tower at the tip of a finger of beachhead reaching for the sea. The huts were small things, foundations raised off the ground, with canopies of either leather or bound leaves. Ithildess first noticed the quiet, the waves made their rush towards the shore and salty winds whispered between the wall-less buildings. That surprised her the most, that some of the huts were little but a floor and a roof with only a simple frame of wood to support it. But the way the air soothed while the sun heated and dried made her realize it may not have been such a bad decision. In those huts she saw faces, young and old, peering at her with what looked like curiosity.

They, however, were headed towards a tent, raised tall and wide, made from a clear patchwork of several different hides. The entrance had been draped shut and two small torches guarded the outside. Zul entered first and waved in Ithildess from the dark interior, “The shaman should be here soon,” once inside, a furious bear roared at her in the dim light. Rugs of black bears, tigers and other great beasts littered the floor, and their expressions were locked in combat. Hugging the walls were low tables and shelves with all manner of preserved animal parts; hearts, claws, even eyes preserved in a cloudy yellow concoction. Under the beam of light from the smokehole in the middle Zul had undressed, and the shadows played to an exotic mysticism as they draped her body. Ithildess swallowed, every time she saw her lover naked, she appeared in a new light: this time, she saw all of her. Her lust for trolls went further than their bodies, yet looking at the one she had fallen for, there could be no doubt that Zul had her in a spell that fed on her love and lust equally. There is such a thing as perfection, she thought, not forming the words in her head but knowing them. Her eyes journeyed up legs sculpted from battle to their apex, a wild brush of red hiding away what the bare thought of made the blood rise to her cheeks. Zul’s breasts were by no means large for her kind, but they stood firm and still did not fit in Ithildess’ hands; she remembered the sensation of how her nipples poked and hardened against her pressing touch and had to steady herself from swooning.

Through the sweet smell of incense she went towards her love as she was beckoned by her amber eyes, with arms at her sides she let Zul peel sticky garments clinging to her skin. Naked, she shuddered and steadied herself on her troll, a hand on her stomach to feel the muscles beneath shift with her breathing. Like before, she tugged at Zul to close the distance between their lips. They met, and briefly Ithildess appreciated her upturned tusks, thick as any of her fingers and pointed, but allowed them to kiss with all the passion that trolls with jutting tusks could not afford to express. “This is a place sacred to shamans,” Zul husked as Ithildess’ molded her hand to her breast. Her skin flushed and warmed, but not from the tropical heat.  
“I won’t stop,” she looked at Zul, firmly into her eyes to see what her rolling massage of her bosom would do. She aimed to see that noble face of hers limn pleasure through the slight furrow of her brow and the languid way her eyes closed. She licked the side of her breast, tasting salt and sex as Zul’s lips began to part, rewarding Ithildess with a labored sigh.  
“I wouldn’t let you,” Ithildess was pulled closer by the small of her back, with no time to break as the flap to the tent opened and a young woman ducked through.

“So Riki speak de truth.” She looked the couple over, “Zul’raja return with a sin’dorei on her lips.”  
“Yaanji,” Zul started. Ithildess had expected an old wise troll dressed in all manners of ritualistic garb, but the girl that stood before them was short, scrawny and had a pelt, like the one they stood one, draped over her back and the head of a tiger perched on her scalp. Seeing as Zul made no effort to cover herself, Ithildess stood incredulously with arms limp at her sides, “where’s your father?”  
“I be shaman now,” she said peeved, like her abilities had come into question, “his duties be mine.”

“Then you won’t mind a test,” Zul said, and Yaanji laughed, “I see de bruise ya elf-gyal got there, don’cha think I blind.” She tossed the tiger’s head back, and the skin cloak suddenly looked far too large for her as it dragged across the ground behind her. Hollow bones and claws rattled from her ears as she approached Ithildess, the air around her smelling strange of some animal or other. From her raised hand, ethereal green tendrils sprouted and penetrated the discolored skin, the feeling was tender where she had expected pain. Pressure slowly alleviated where she thought there had been none, and the purple hue vanished and left her skin healthy.  
“De bad blood be gone, but de muscle be hurt still, ya need to rest an’ eat.” She retracted her hand and turned to Zul. Ithildess felt the area, no longer painful to the touch but tender underneath. She didn’t mind, a real shaman had laid hands on her which not many elves could claim. She wouldn’t let her childish joy show.

“Dere, my task be done proper,” she stood proud to Zul, who smiled sincerely and hugged her tight. “Yaanji, last time I saw you you were just a little girl in your father’s shadow.”  
“I missed ya.” Yaanji melted like butter and sank into Zul’s embrace, as if she had turned back years. Ithildess wondered what kind of person Zul had been before they met, at that moment she saw a hero in her and it made her heart swell in her chest.  
“We’ll sit and talk outside soon, I need to be alone with Ithildess after the travel here,” she laid a hand on Yaanji’s shoulder and she pulled her animal cowl after her head.  
“Nobody dare disturb dis tent, dey still be frightened of all dis juju.” She exited the tent and stuck her head through with a nagging glance, “Covah yaself before ya come out, and ya betta not mess up de rugs wit ya copulatin’.” They were left alone, and Zul led her further back.

Zul sat down with her legs tucked under, and Ithildess moved behind and begun straightening out the trusses of her blood-vibrant hair. The mohawk that had slumped over like a withered plant concealed great lengths that Ithildess combed her fingers through. She aired it and let the strands pass through her hands like sand, and it smelled of Zul and the jungle. With help she put it in several thick braids, clasped with brass rings that sang when they came together.

Ithildess finished the last of the braids, then swept them from Zul’s back and kissed her neck, down to her shoulders and shoulder blades, slowly down her spine, she teased with the tip of her tongue until she heard her troll moan and her body shiver. “I want to be inside you,” Ithildess whispered in her ear, and hugged herself to Zul, aware of her taut nipples pressed into her back. Zul breathed, “I’m yours,” and leaned into Ithildess; with a shudder she drew their lips together. Ithildess felt herself loving the weight of Zul against her, leaned back and completely trusting. She had control and it was exhilarating, the ability to touch Zul as she liked; she raked her fingers through the matted, red down of Zul’s sex and felt the hard smoothness of her stomach flex with each beat of her excitement.

“Please,” Zul said, breath catching when one small hand clasped her breast, “I’m not good at handling teasing—Ithildess I want you,” she pleaded, and drew a sharp breath as Ithildess moved to provide for her, felt her body tense against hers, and know the effects she caused. Ithildess cupped her sex with tantalizing movements, giving a finger just the slightest of pushes to pass Zul’s indigo lips and gather her essence on its tip, and wet her clit with small circles. It hardened against her, like Zul stopping in anticipation; she panted softly but Ithildess controlled her breath. A soft grind and her breathing came to a stop, one finger inside and she twisted and groaned; and that is my punishment, Ithildess thought. Not being able to respond to her, to give and take of all the sounds she made for her. Instead she would give for the both of them.  
“Will your Loa see us? Speak to me, my love,” Ithildess said, and licked the marks her nails had once caused, as her fingers became two, three, then four inside Zul, they flexed and ground inside her to moans that became cries as her insides tightened.

“They can watch all they like… ohh—Ithildess,” Zul’s voice shook, and Ithildess felt the signs that she was close, her imminent orgasm permeated every muscle, tensed it rigid and brought a strange heat to her body as blood rushed through her. “Kiss me, kiss me, I can’t keep silent…”

They kissed, and at that moment she crashed, and Ithildess felt Zul’s orgasm like a strong pulse of pure vitality, a frantic beat against her fingers, against her lips, against her body. Ithildess felt her entire being stir with profound love for the troll in her arms as Zul came shuddering against her, a heightened moment of tension rolled and swelled like waves to the shore, gripping her invading fingers in a desperate clutch, followed by a calm, deep lassitude.

Zul was let down and laid beside Ithildess, smiling and out of breath as sweat beaded and caught light on her forehead. Ithildess felt her love grow each time their bodies united, each time Zul was gripped by pleasure that she was the cause of. Her hands came back slick with a familiar scent. They shared the rich essence between them with pleading kisses, struggling for a little bit of self-control.

“How long have we been in here?” Ithildess worded between kisses,  
“Not long enough,” Zul didn’t let her rise, even if it took no convincing on her part. “Come night you’ll have no escape,” she tried her best villainous impression and Ithildess laughed and silently thanked all the gods above, below and around for this stupid, overgrown, beautiful and maddeningly sexy woman; a friend as much as a lover and a protector.

Murmurs from outside had gathered and became louder as more voices joined the silent chorus, and they realized they weren’t alone.

Her own needs would have to wait.

 

Zul’raja and Ithildess clumsily wiped themselves and dressed in simple troll garb they found in a woven basket, and Ithildess followed as Zul swept away the tent flap and stepped into the sun.

They were greeted by a curious mass of blue that had formed around the entrance to the shaman’s tent, Ithildess had never seen as many trolls at once and attempted to step behind Zul but was kept from doing so by a familiar hand on her shoulder. She looked and saw Zul’s eyes on her, and she whispered, “Prove to them.” There was no room for the meek in troll society, and she would have to go outside her upbringing, her common sense, to stand out.

Ithildess did away with Zul’s hand and went behind her. Just as Zul had begun to turn her head, Ithildess held her hips and spun her around to face the crowd with her back. A short silence worried Ithildess before a great laughter erupted, prompting a smile from her and confusion from Zul.  
“I saw your back wasn’t all healed after our first night,” she said, and tapped her nails to the claw marks that still raked over Zul’s back. And charged by the wild chatter behind them and several mentions of the word raja that she overheard, Ithildess kissed her, “Have I proved to them?”, she asked and stepped in front of the crowd as the stares made her grow.  
“Plenty,” Zul’raja said and stood proud beside Ithildess, “no doubt who owns who.”

The crowd parted and were silenced. An older troll, a shrunken man with a ragged white mane and long robes made his way to Ithildess and Zul, his cane sturdy in his hands. Ithildess figured it impolite to stare but the scarred stump where his left forearm should be fascinated her. Trolls have incredible regenerative abilities, they are able to regrow lost limbs and recover from injuries other races would surely die from. Ithildess could think of no other explanation than deliberate dismemberment—but the whys and the hows stumped her.

“So, Zul’raja be back, and she has a sin’dorei of all with her,” He studied Ithildess through all the leathery wrinkles that obscured his eyes, far sat in their sockets. “Why are you here?” he asked,  
“Zul wants me to be here,” Ithildess answered with all her new confidence, “and I want to be here with her.”  
The old troll gave a raspy laugh, “then all is right! But that is not an answer,” he turned to Zul, who had stood quiet since he arrived. She spoke something to him in Zandali with a warm, humble voice, and his face eased.  
“Yaanji,” he called, and the young shaman went to his side, “this elf be our guest. Take her around the village then to my hut, we will be there.” He struck the soft earth with his cane, “We will take Zul’raja for a while, she has much to learn and much to listen.”

Zul kissed Ithildess and in the same motion whispered, “I’ll be gone for a while, but we will see each other soon. I love you.” Her gaze lingered on Ithildess before breaking off and becoming one with the group, the scene of a lone traveler reuniting with friends and family. Ithildess heard her laugh out of the dozen others, and saw flashes of the incandescent joy on her face before she disappeared, and Yaanji was left with her looking in the same direction.  
“Ya did not mess up de rugs, didja?” she opened the tent, then closed it as she wrinkled her nose, “and Zul’raja did take ya as a lover.”  
“Is it that obvious?” Ithildess said,  
“Ya smell more like troll than all other trolls here, elf. De entiya village must know ya been intimate,” Yaanji grinned and pushed her forward, “Jazakima want of me a guide and he get one, so come here.”

Yaanji took Ithildess towards the beach, and walked between the dotted line of huts and the fine, white sands. Ithildess tried the sand between her toes, and sighed against the cooling breeze from the ocean. What paradise, she thought, even without Zul here.  
“All the villagers must really like Zul,” Ithildess said, and Yaanji cackled so her animal cowl slipped from her head.  
“If Zul’raja did not tell ya about her greatness then I will!” She said proudly, “she never let words talk for her,” she said with certain admiration. “I will say Zul’raja made dis village with her own hands, she work and work for all of us. There be no Raja’mai without Zul’raja.”

Many years ago, Yaanji told, Zul’raja, Jazakima, the village chief, and Ren’jai, now the head of the village guard and the strongest warrior they had, took with them a large group of wandering trolls into the deep jungles of Stranglethorn to found Raja’mai. Yaanji told her dreamily about Zul and Ren’jai cutting down trees day and night, catching food for them to eat, teaching the younger generations hunting and fishing, working tirelessly to guarantee them safety. Even Ithildess felt a certain nostalgia as she listened, she could imagine Zul giving everything for her tribe, just as she had offered to give everything to Ithildess to realize her ambitions.

“I love her,” Ithildess said as Yaanji’s story died down.  
She didn’t answer, but instead pointed Ithildess to the wooden jetty ahead of them, and the figure sitting at the end of it, “she be de first outsider to come here, and she also take troll for a lover. She be knowin’ what it mean. Come on.” They approached the jetty, and as Yaanji’s heavy step hit the boards the woman at the end looked over her shoulder and stood up. Ithildess was amazed to see the human girl come up to them, half-naked from the heat and thoroughly tanned from head to toe.

“Yaanji, found love at last?” the human said joyfully, in proper orcish, and turned her attention to Ithildess, “a sin’dorei too, I am very surprised!”  
“Don’cha forget when you were de stranger here, Anji,” Yaanji sighed, “she’s wit Zul’raja, she came back.”  
“Two good news. I always knew Zul was the kind of troll that favored women, but elves I would never guess.” Anji said and held her hand out to Ithildess, she took it and Anji shook firmly. She was strong for a human, earthy and lively.  
“I’m Angelie, or Anji, it makes more sense here,” she smiled, “I’m Ren’jai’s mate, she’s a good friend to Zul’raja, have you met her?”  
“No,” Ithildess said cautiously, “I’m Ithildess.”  
“Get her to Jazakima when ya done, I guess he be wantin’ a feast tonight,” Yaanji said and walked back to the village.

Anji led Ithildess by the hand to the edge of the jetty and sat down. She resumed fishing and Ithildess sat by her, staring at the first human she had ever seen at this distance.  
“Strange, isn’t it? Seeing a human in a troll village? About as strange as seeing a blood elf here.” Anji grinned and nudged Ithildess with her elbow, “You’re going to love it here, just look at the sea.”  
Ithildess did, and it glittered in response. Further out it was still clear enough to see the shadows of fish and underwater traps.  
“It is strange, but how did you get here? You’re Alliance.”  
“That’s exactly the reason I’m here!” Anji laughed as she remembered, “I was sent to survey the jungles about four years ago. I came across this village and all the beautiful trolls here, and then I got caught.” She paused, and smiled as Ithildess was drawn in, “Ren’jai caught me, knocked me out cold from what she told me. We spent the night together, funnily enough, captive and captor, and now I’m here and have been since then. Of course I follow a few parties out to hunt and trade, I still have my uses, but the main reason is because of my Ren.” Anji tugged gently at the line as she spoke, “Now you owe me a story, how did you bag the great Zul’raja?”

“I don’t mind telling you. But I want a lot more answers in return,” Ithildess said. They were so similar, but she couldn’t believe it.  
“For as long as I can, or until I catch something.” Anji nodded.  
“Fair. I was working on turning the troll hormones that stimulates their heat into a tonic, like an actual love potion. She volunteered to be my test subject… that’s how me met.” Ithildess picked her words, but lost all hope of concealing any information when Anji’s eyes lit up.  
“An actual love potion? Wait, you took on a troll in heat? Wait, Zul’raja in heat? Just imagining that…” Anji sucked on her lips and got closer to Ithildess, rubbing against her arm, “You’re not telling me something. You’re blushing. If I tell you what Ren did to me, will you tell me what Zul did to you?”  
“Are you serious? Are we going to talk sex just like that?” Ithildess swallowed air, and felt herself become more tense as Anji’s discerning eyes picked out her weaknesses.

“I’m here for the same reason you are; I love trolls. And I can see you do as well, especially the tall, powerful females,” Anji was right, Ithildess knew it, “I love how strong they are, how tall they are and how vibrant their hair is. Ren can cut a man’s head clean off his shoulders but she’s still able to hold me at night with all the love in the world, but don’t tell her I said that.” She laughed, but she seemed to focus on something inside her, something warm and gentle.

“Wait, how did you know I liked trolls?” Ithildess asked defensively.  
“No, no, first you’re going to tell me what you like about trolls, then I will tell you about my time with Ren, and you will tell me about your first time with Zul. Right now this is an incredibly unbalanced exchange of information, you know.” Anji lifted her finger over her lips, then watched Ithildess as she kept fishing.

Ithildess became terribly curious. For a long time she thought her love for trolls had been a lonely obsession, did she really want to pass up an opportunity to share her feelings?  
“Trolls are so beautiful and strong. I feel really warm whenever I see Zul, she’s tall and has this figure that I can’t stop looking at, then she’s got these deep eyes and amazing red hair… but I most like the way she feels, how she kisses me and holds me, she is so warm sometimes I get shivers and then she looks into my eyes and I feel like I want to spend every day with her.” Ithildess went silent and stared at her fingers, a soft ache in her chest for Zul’s touch.

“By the light, that is so romantic,” Anji said and put her hand on Ithildess’ leg, “it sounds a lot deeper than sex to me, I know when to keep my distance.” She went back to fishing, “I can’t wait to see how you two look together. Ren kept me locked up a long time and that’s when I fell for her. She was a bit cold at first but she spent more and more time with me, but was too embarrassed to ask me to stay so she didn’t release me for two weeks.” Anji laughed and Ithildess felt herself bubbling up as well.

“Zul was rough with me the first time, but I still loved it, I was just as crazy from her heat,” Ithildess said softly, and caught Anji’s attention, “after that had passed she was so kind and loving, it really felt like I wanted nothing more than her, and to give her everything she gave to me. Now it’s your turn.” Ithildess sat calmly, but she longed for Zul to take her in her arms, more than ever.  
“You earned it. Ren put me in a very… tied situation and it was intense the first time, but then she became a big softie on me. For all that hard talk she does she really loves it when I hold her head to my chest, then we make love for hours, sometimes slow but other times we need each other, it gets urgent and almost desperate, I love that side of her.”

Both women dreamed for a while and listened to the rushing swell of the waves against the jetty, Anji didn’t notice the fishing line tensing until the fish had gone, but didn’t seem to care. “Are you going to stay?” Anji asked,  
“I don’t know. Zul promised me something special, but right now this feels so much more important.”  
“What does?”  
“Staying here, seeing Zul so happy to be back home is like seeing a whole new side of her.”

Anji stood up and lodged the fishing rod between two boards and helped Ithildess to her feet, “if you do stay, I know the entire village will help you build your own home. I’ll even get Ren off her lazy butt.” Anji said and walked back to shore, “Jazakima is probably waiting for us.”

To hell with alchemy, Ithildess thought, and hurried.

As they got further into the village, Ithildess spotted Jazakima and a fresh gathering of trolls, with Zul and Yaanji standing next to him. She saw another troll, towering above all of them, and she could never forget the dominant air she controlled. The years had done her well since she last saw her in Silvermoon, she seemed stronger and more imposing, with her red mohawk that stood taller and seemed to burst with flames from her head. Anji dreamily informed Ithildess that she was Ren’jai, captain of the guard and the strongest warrior of Raja’mai. Anji ran to her side, and the austere warrior actually managed a smile. Zul found Ithildess in the crowd, and waved to her, and embraced her off the ground as they reunited.

“I missed you,” Ithildess said, flourishing as she held tight.  
“I missed you too, how was the tour?” Zul asked, moving her lips only slightly before kissing her.  
“Wonderful, your village is so beautiful and I am so proud of everything you’ve done here. I love you so much.” Ithildess forgot the other trolls for a moment, a blissful space just for them. She heard Zul’s laugh and saw her eyes sparkle,  
“You must’ve really liked it,” Zul said, and Ithildess immediately kissed her.  
“Anji made me realize a few things.” 

Jazakima struck his cane into the earth, and spoke, “Zul’raja is once again with us,” the crowd cheered until his cane lifted, “she bring stories of battles, of lessons and a mate you see now. Ithildess, sin’dorei. She has stilled the waters, calmed the storm, and returned to us, a new woman. A feast will celebrate the return of Zul’raja, and our guest. Show this sin’dorei how trolls eat.” A grin spread his aging, leathery face, and the group of trolls dispersed, some giving hugs to both Zul and Ithildess, some looking at them sideways but all moving to prepare for the night.

“Ithildess, Ren’jai,” Jazakima waved them over, “Ithildess, you will learn that we all have our place, and earn it with work. To eat by our fires, you must offer food, so take Ren’jai and hunt go into our bountiful jungles. Boar would be good for tonight.”  
Jazakima nodded briefly, then retreated to his hut, and the remaining four gathered around.  
“Not even Anji goes huntin’ with me, and you’re even scrawnier than she is.” Ren’jai laughed, even that sounding intimidating, but Anji pulled at her finger and it reeled her back in.  
“If I find out you’ve been rude to our guest I’m taking all your pork. She’s a dear friend,” Anji winked to Ithildess.  
“I know some spells that can help us, but I can’t tackle a boar, no.” Ithildess said, and Ren’jai glanced at Zul,  
“I heard. Zul, take Riki and follow behind and try to lure one of them to us, we’ll be waiting and maybe a fine spell will keep us from starving.”

Before they moved past the open gate and onto a side-path leading into the jungle, Zul kissed Ithildess and reassured her, “I will be behind you, it will be fine,” and Ithildess kissed her back, saying “I’ll do nothing but prove myself.”


	4. A Home for Two pt. 2

Well into the deep Stranglethorn jungles, Zul’raja and her party of volunteers had traveled past Ren’jai and Ithildess in their effort to lure a boar towards them. They were hiding near the far end of a natural funnel between two grown saplings, marked by animal tracks so dense Ithildess couldn’t tell one from the other; perhaps that was a good sign of things to come.

The jungles seemed different to her, as if it could get more silent, and the odd sound of a bird or the rustling of leaves far above accented the silence rather than interrupting it. Ithildess certainly wasn’t comfortable, the jungle floor felt wet and soggy under her boots, and Ren’jai had laughed when she stuffed the ends of her leggings into them at the mention of venomous spiders and insects that loved to crawl into boots at night. “Everything here can kill ya,” Ren’jai repeated a she knelt opposite Ithildess, totally barefoot but troll feet were infamously thick-skinned and no insect in Azeroth could penetrate something like that, Ren boasted as she stomped a millipede to death, going out of her way to do so.

“Water?” Ithildess asked, she saw the sweat on Ren’jai, yet not nearly as bad as Zul had it.  
“I didn’t see ya bring any,” Ren’jai said, then fixed her eyes as Ithildess weaved her hands over her canteen to the sound of it filling rapidly.  
“I didn’t,” she smirked, and Ren’jai reached out and took the canteen from her hands. She swirled its contents, brought it to her nose, even poured some on the ground.  
“So this is your magic, cold water?” Despite her mocking tone, she drank deeply and tossed it over, “ya think some water will stop a charging boar?”  
“And ice,” Ithildess added, “but not regular ice, it’s far colder and hard as bone,”  
“Good for stabbing someone in the back,” Ren’jai brought her voice down, and smiled coldly as Ithildess’ froze.

“So you spoke to Zul about what happened,” Ithildess asked, and Ren’jai kept her steely glance on her. She had seen big cats hunt before, and right before they attack they stay perfectly still, which is what Ren did, the bones and claws tied to her hair slowly spinning.  
“Zul’raja is the one who made this village, we fought in the arenas and we stand on a mountain of death. I respect anything she does, but I will not trust a sin’dorei until she earns it,” Ithildess opened her mouth, yet she remained silent as Ren stared her down, unmoving still.  
“This potion of yours I don’t care about, and not that you killed for her or have her scent all over ya. But,” Ren yielded briefly, looking towards the dirt path, “she entered a bloodrage for you, still there’s no anger in her.”

Terms like ‘bloodrage’ were things Ithildess had only read about in books after her love for trolls had taken her on a few academic studies across Azeroth, yet it had never been properly explained so she had understood. She knew it was violent, that much was evident.

“What are you trying to say?” was all she could manage to answer.  
“Zul’raja has not told you anything, has she?” Ren smirked, and the words stung Ithildess, “do ya know what her name means?” Ren said after some deliberation. Ithildess shook her head silently, and Ren filled in, “Zul’raja is a great anger, it’s her old name, older than Raja’Mai.”  
Confusion and anger rose in Ithildess, she hissed, “all this mention of anger, bloodrage, arenas and the past, but you have told me nothing!”  
Ren’jai grinned with malicious glee, “The bloodrage, the raja, is the power of the berserker. That is Zul. We fought in the arena, she threw her weapons to the ground and tore men apart with only her hands and blood and coin rained on her. Is that the answer ya wanted?”

Ithildess just could not see it, but the image of that man from the house, his chest distorted and his head a reddish pulp, and Zul astride him, shaking with rage; it hadn’t made sense to her then, the sight had been too sickening.  
“That is who you love,” Ren’jai’s voice felt cold, “you don’t get to love her thinking she is perfect, that’s what it means to love a troll.”  
“What does it mean for Anji?” Ithildess said, the only thing she could think of.  
“We are not as fresh as you, she knows who I am, every side of me.”  
“And I will know every side of Zul,” Ithildess said defiantly, “I’ll have her tell me, I shouldn’t have heard this from you. And if I find you’ve been lying I’m coming after you.”  
To this, Ren’jai laughed so loud Ithildess was certain it had stirred the whole jungle, “trust no-one, sin’dorei.”

Ren’jai went back to watching the funnel, and Ithildess was left alone with her own thoughts. Zul had kept something from her again, lied by omission, and Ithildess felt frustration when she couldn’t understand why. Yet she could not bring herself to hate Zul, that emotion would be reserved for herself, but she found no issue in the bitterness of being promised honesty and not receiving it. She considered this deeply but was awakened by an odd whistling noise that pierced through the jungle from the other side of the funnel. “The signal,” Ren’jai whispered, and they leaned their heads out and saw a black boar charging through the forest floor, with two trolls maneuvering past the trees and after it.

Watching as the boar skirted around thick roots and kicked up wet leaves as it skidded on the wet ground, Ithildess, driven partly by anger, channeled cold into the palms of her hands, and the moment the boar entered the funnel she unleashed it all onto the ground and it spread as a large patch of white ice. The animal had no time to stop; it lost all friction, rolled and kicked until Ren put her weight over it with a trained precision, and struck a blade into its neck. It kept kicking its hind legs in a run, then that was reduced to a sad quiver, and Ren’jai hauled it over her shoulder. Like that, it was over.

“This is a fine one, plenty of meat will come of this,” Ren patted its black fur and looked at Ithildess with approval, “go to Zul, I’ll find my own way,” she said and walked away, and in seconds the mass of trees obscured her. Zul came jumping over the ice, and smiled widely at Ithildess, who stood leaned by a slender tree.  
“You’re wonderful! I don’t think a hunt has ever gone this well, all thanks to a little magic,” Zul took her hands, looked at them, then blew hot air onto her palms, “You’re freezing.”  
“Look me in the eyes, Zul,” Ithildess said and tugged Zul down to her level; she closed the distance between them, and focused on her, studying her. Her gaze felt warm as always, despite herself it made Ithildess happy, having Zul’s total attention, and to know the only person she saw was her.

“You would not lie to me?” Ithildess asked and looked deep into Zul, a hand came to her cheek.  
“I wouldn’t,” Zul began, and furrowed her brow in concern, “Ren’jai said something to you.”  
“Is it true, did you rip men in half in the arena? Have you kept it from me, that you are a berserker?”  
Zul kissed her with a gentle kindness, murmuring, “It’s true—but you shouldn’t have heard it from her.”  
“Then would I ever have heard it from you?”  
“Why is it important to you? I don’t want my past back,” she snapped,  
“Don’t you understand?” Ithildess protested, swallowing the ache coming to her throat, “I want to know everything about you. You are important to me, I can’t even say how important you are.”  
At that, Zul’raja sank back into the moist earth, fists clenched in her lap and staring at them. “I’m terrible,” she said quietly, “I don’t like talking about my past, and I don’t want it to be a part of us,” she raised her head and showed her regret, “but I want us to be one. I’ll tell you everything, Ithildess, I won’t lie and you will hear anything you want to know if it takes you closer to me.”

Drawn by her words, Ithildess sat with Zul and filled her view, “you are not perfect,” she recalled Ren’s words vividly, “I don’t get to love you thinking you are perfect. But you are terrible at honesty,” Ithildess put her lips to Zul’s cheek, then her tusk; and pulled away as Zul tried to further it.  
“I want to be perfect for you, Ithildess,” Zul said, and Ithildess silenced her, “Be you.”

 

The air in the jungle had cooled, and Zul walked with Ithildess towards the village, treading slowly and reminiscing about landmarks and their related stories that Ithildess could not find no matter how she looked. What mattered was Zul sharing with her any part of her life.  
“I’m still angry, you know,” Ithildess pouted up at Zul.  
“I think I deserve it,” she replied simply, “but I won’t back down, when do you want to hear my story?”  
“Tonight, alone with you, I want to watch the sea.”  
“I love you, Ithildess.” Zul gave her hand a squeeze, and Ithildess couldn’t stop herself from smiling no matter how she tried and failed.  
“You’re going to work for my love… but I do love you.” She squeezed back, and felt wicked for savoring a secret she wanted badly to tell.

 

The preparations of the feast took the village into night. Ithildess witnessed its transformation from a sleepy, tropical settlement by the beach, a paradise by any definition, to a place draped in shadowy mysteries. Braziers were lit one by one to ward off the dark, and now shadows played against the huts and the tents. Trolls moved past and seemed much larger, and Ithildess felt at once that the real nature of the village only became apparent at night.

Rising first as a soft swell, thunderous drums rocked the air, her small frame vibrated with their power, excitement of the unknown drove into her. She had no place or experience dividing the carcass of the boar, or putting it to roast; Ithildess ran back and forth with other women, between massive fires, tables and rowdy dancers with skins bursting with spirits, bowls of fruit and stacks of dried meat she could not see the end of. Everything around her came to life, built towards a massive crescendo, and Ithildess was in the middle of it, if it did have any borders.

Ithildess spotted Anji as she made her way back to one of the huts, she stood and tended one of the many bonfires by the shore while young trolls danced around it, and her. If they take so well to a human, they must take well to me, Ithildess thought and walked to her.  
“Ithildess, welcome back!” Anji said as she turned her head, and the fire swallowed the rest of the wood she carried, to the joyful cries of the children. Anji embraced her, and said over the piercing drums, “I am furious with Ren, I’ll eat until I vomit before letting her have any! I can’t believe she said that to you,” Ithildess was bombarded with firsts, this time a hug from a human. Anji was far stronger than her, that was evident, as well as more robust and better equipped. Ithildess wondered if she would gain a troll physique if she stayed, the way Anji seemed to have.

“Don’t be angry, in the end she did me a favor,” Ithildess said, and squinted as the heat from the fire lapped at her, “I think she really cares for Zul.”  
“Are you sure? Because I won’t let her scare you away and if she breaks you up I will slap her into Outland,”  
“None of that will happen,” Ithildess laughed comfortably, she actually liked Anji, her intensity felt welcoming, “she told me about you, and it’s clear how much you love each other, I don’t want to see you apart because of me,”  
“Ithildess, you are an absolute blessing! But just say the word and I’ll have her head,” she made a motion across her throat and laughed, and Ithildess began to notice her slightly slurred speech and looseness. It really was a feast, she thought and smiled.  
“And before I forget, I left a present for you in Zul’s old hut, we used it for storage but we all pitched in to restore it for you two. From what I hear everyone’s happy to have Zul back, and with time you’ll have proven yourself too.”

In the background, Ithildess watched the three trolls run around the bonfire, dancing and reeling back as the heat became too much. She preferred frost magic and had done so after she accidentally burned half her hair into brittle, black curls, but what she did know could start her on the path to becoming a proven member of Raja’mai.

She gestured for Anji to watch as she approached the fire, and began to manipulate its shape, first into a simple pillar that weaved and spun around itself, lashing out with white tendrils. The children stopped and watched, and Anji gathered them behind Ithildess. She made the flames dance and roar to their amusement; it required a great deal of concentration to shape even simple animals. They recognized a boar and began to shout, an orange troll with badly defined limbs and they laughed, crying ‘Jazakima’. She wanted to show them a dragon but with her limited experience it became a pig-like creature riddled with shifting spikes and a monstrous snarl, degenerating into a tight ball that burst with a flash of heat and returned the fire to what it had been.

When she finished, the kids shouted jubilantly and went back to the fire and imitated the movements she had made, and at least she felt some accomplishment of providing inspiration. What she found out only when she turned around, was Anji and several adults cheering until she felt her face burn. Ithildess tried a humble wave, and she was pulled into the crowd and carried back to the village, where food, drink and trolls were waiting.

“Let’s find Zul and Ren!” Anji shouted now, and took Ithildess by the hand and pulled her from the villagers, towards a different group, seated in clusters and sharing meals. Anji and Ithildess came up behind Zul and Ren, and recognized them by their hair, Zul had left the braids just as they had been woven, and Ren’s mohawk pointed to her like an arrow.

“Ithildess! What do you think?” Zul said and took her deeply into her arms. She had been sitting without food nor drink, waiting, and it seemed that Ren had done the same. Ithildess happily nuzzled close and watched as warm light from the fires lit up Zul’s features, the blue of her skin and her smile irresistibly beautiful to her.  
“Everything is great, the entire village feels alive,” Ithildess said over the booming drums, and Anji shouted beside them, “We’ve all been fired up since you two got here!”  
Zul and Ithildess shared a lively glance, and Ren shoved forward two clay mugs filled with a clear liquid.  
“You want to be one of us, sin’dorei? Then drink until Zul has to carry you home,” she roared with laughter, emptied her own mug, and bent Anji backwards with a kiss.

“Drink!” Anji said, her face flushed and giggling. Ithildess knew that face well, the blissful and carefree love that she would rather see out of control than restrained. She touched the mug to her nose, then took a gulp to prove her bravery; the beverage didn’t feel like a liquid as much as it felt like cold air that simultaneously burned and numbed her mouth, and her throat going down. She saw Zul upend her own mug and shake her head in a grimace; she kissed her and felt the sting of the alcohol on her lips.

Suddenly, the drums came to a stop, and a murmur rose as Jazakima climbed a table in the middle of the feast. He swayed, and struck his cane down into a bowl of fruit.  
“Tonight we celebrate the return of Zul’raja, and the elf who brought her, Ithildess. Raise your cups!” He commanded, and a cheer erupted among cups held high, Zul and Ithildess’ included, “we eat and drink to a good hunt, a blessed year, friends, family and health. Let this feast be in honor of all that is new and all that is right!” His raspy voice carried far, and provoked the explosive continuation of the feast, the air vibrant with music and voices again.

Ithildess watched as Zul’s eyes wandered to a group of dancers, then linger at Ithildess to develop a wicked smirk, “dance with me,” Zul spoke softly to her, and offered a hand as she stood up. Ithildess had never danced a step in her life, but alcohol has a wonderful way of chasing off inhibitions, and soon her white, delicate hand was with Zul, approaching the music and commotion, where the air was the thickest.

Zul’s body moved and flowed like water against Ithildess, unrestricted as she danced and followed the rhythmic bounce of her hips. Ithildess stood as hypnotized. Many trolls danced around them, but to her, only they existed; Zul’raja’s dance, just for her eyes, and maybe it was the alcohol or her desires, but Ithildess began to move. Stiffly at first, then dissolving along with her embarrassment as fire rose in the pit of her stomach. Her hands went to Zul, seeing her through touching as she twisted and undulated, and her bare skin caught shadows and light, merging into erotic patterns on the lines defining her body.

The dance slowly came to an end, with Ithildess and Zul’raja intertwined, panting from the movement and blushed from the intimacy. “Let’s sit alone, by the beach,” Ithildess said, and Zul followed closely as they made away from the huts and pyres, Ithildess with her skin still buzzing with warmth from Zul’s caresses.

“Here,” she said and sat down on the jetty where she met Anji. It creaked as Zul sat, and the cool breeze all but disappeared under her protection.  
“I didn’t know you could dance,” Ithildess said shyly.  
“You amazed me too, you move like a Goddess,” Zul answered, her voice finally clear and rich, without suffocating in the noise behind them.  
“I only moved after you,”  
“No, you were your own. I wouldn’t feel this drawn to you otherwise.”

Stars lit the sky, and Ithildess traveled back in time, barely a day ago, to their night alone on the zeppelin. The closeness was the same, and so was the sky. She held Zul’raja’s hand in hers, and felt the strength in it, yet she would scoff at anyone that claimed they only knew violence and brutality. They were the gentlest hands she knew, a tenderness spread through every part of her when those hands came to hold her, even if they only lingered at her fingers or cradled her cheeks.

“They have taken many lives,” Ithildess began, looking down at them and seeing the impossible.  
“Yes,” came Zul’s answer, no hesitation.  
“How many?”  
“If I knew that I would go mad. Too many,” she said, “does it bother you?”  
“No, I know what your hands are really capable of, and it’s something more powerful than killing,” Ithildess brought her lips to one of them, it was warm, “was it bloodrage? When you killed that man?”  
Zul came over a look of regret, she stayed silent for a while and Ithildess watched the varying degrees in her expression.  
“Yes,” Zul turned away for the first time, but Ithildess came closer and filled her view.

“How does it feel?” Ithildess said carefully. She never forgot that face afterward, and the sense of exploring the most secretive parts of her, what made her defenseless.  
“I…” she sighed, “I can’t control what I do, but at the same time there is nothing more simple. I can only think of the rage I have for whoever is in front of me, and that I want them dead.” Zul steeled herself to a frown, but Ithildess was close enough to see past it. She hurt.

“I was a beast, Ithildess, an awful beast that murdered anyone that came against me in the arena. Even young men trying to win glory or gold, it was the best feeling I ever had, killing them as violently as I could.” She said, her hesitation anything from anger to regret.  
“How come you stopped?” Ithildess said with her hands on Zul’s tensed shoulders and ignored the shiver that went through her.  
“Ithildess,” she choked out, “if you want to know, I will tell you. But you will never look at me the same. Will you—” Zul stopped herself, and Ithildess embraced her the way a mother embraces her child.  
“I won’t change my love for you, Zul, I won’t—no matter what’s in your past. Please, tell me.” Ithildess whispered, holding Zul harder, stroking her head. She couldn’t see her as she spoke, but her voice was deep inside her.

“I killed someone, a brother of a good friend I had, I can’t remember her name anymore,” Zul said, and her heartbeat sped up its thumping against Ithildess’ chest, “she didn’t know he was a challenger—she watched him die—screamed at me to stop but I didn’t. He was so weak, killing him was easy… he died with his body broken and his sister crying.”

For all the terrible things Zul had done, what love she felt could only grow. A wounded troll mourning her past and hiding it away, that’s what she was to Ithildess; the strongest woman she had ever met, even to a fault. She pressed Zul’s face against her chest, and cradled her as best she could. If she was crying, there was no way of telling, but Ithildess held onto her love just the same.

“You aren’t a beast anymore, Zul. You protect and you love me, and I love you above all else. Nothing in your past changes that,” Ithildess said finally, after a long time holding her in silence, “the love I have for you, Zul, I can’t say with words. You shared yourself with me and trusted me, how can I possibly stop loving you?” She kissed her, held her deeply as she felt a few tears roll over her stomach.  
“And if I enter bloodrage again… what will come of us?” Zul said, broken, and Ithildess immediately replied,  
“There will be no need for it,” the time was right, “let’s stay here.”

Zul raised her head, her eyes wet, “what do you mean?”  
Ithildess took her face in her hands and kissed her, tasting the salt on her lips, “you’ve been so happy and bright ever since you came here, I want you to keep that way, I want to keep you that way, at peace.”  
“I promised you your alchemy dreams, you were so happy,” Zul protested, and Ithildess squeezed her cheeks together, smiling for the both of them.  
“I fall in love with you more every time I look at you, and my dream has changed now. My dream is here with you. I’ll prove myself a million times over, I’ll fight anyone in our way—” Now it was Zul’s time to kiss her, if only to hide her barely masked weeping,  
“There’s no fighting here… I love you, Ithildess,” They kissed again, again, one kiss leading into deeper ones; Ithildess felt happily lost, drunkenly floating.  
“I love you, my wonderful, sweet, beautiful, strong, amazing Zul—I love you so much.”

 

Night had now well and truly established itself over Raja’mai village, turning fires to cinders and driving festive trolls back into their huts as the supply of drinks ran dry and the tables were emptied. Instead, the jungle came alive with nocturnal animals and their calls, and like distant sound of rain against a windowpane, it soothed the villagers to sleep.

In one hut, near Raja’mai’s outskirts, with rough wood paneling for walls and spaciously built, Zul’raja danced Ithildess across the length of the hut, her home. She had taught Ithildess folk songs in Zandali, and she laughed as Ithildess tried to get her tongue to command the foreign-tasting words, but Ithildess laughed along with her. In fact they blinded each other with bliss, and as if not expecting a bed to even be there, they fell onto a four-poster bed, and its frame creaked and the leaves that made the ceiling gave a brief rustle. Without so much as questioning its place in her hut, Zul brought her hand to Ithildess beside her, touching her cheek gently, “I used to have a hammock here,” she laughed softly.

Anji came to mind as Ithildess felt the coolness of the covers, she had not seen cloth ever used in the village until now. “I believe it’s a present,” she said as she touched the loosened weave of one of Zul’s braids, and pulled herself closer until their faces were only a breath apart. Love and longing had their similarities to the addiction to arcane magic the blood elves suffered; Ithildess realized she wanted to live with that sweet ache forever, miss Zul even when she was close enough to kiss. Nothing sated the longing, every momentary touch-of-lips and every breath of her scent fueled it.

She came out of her thoughts dizzy and hot, even with the cool night air between them. The primitive chest bindings of hide she wore lay beside her head; that fire and longing she felt was Zul’s mouth, kissing bursts of pleasure on her breasts. Each stroke of her lips deliberate, perfect, Ithildess couldn’t imagine another way it would be better, or convey what Zul felt for her. “Kiss me…” she moaned into the air, soon filled by Zul as she came down over her and stole it.

Zul’raja’s weight over her, her scorching hot body firmly against her own, assured her that it was the one most tangible thing she had ever known. She could touch, smell and taste, feel herself pressed into the mattress, utterly taken and made into pleasure. She felt Zul’s tongue pass her lips, and she welcomed it, licked it, kissed back and felt inside her troll’s mouth. More drunk than alcohol could possible make her, she groaned as she craned her neck back and allowed Zul’s fervent kisses, moving to tusks, teeth, lips and tongue that stirred up her blood, and gathered hotly in her stomach and radiated outward with waves of desire.

Zul touched her like no other, soft yet urgent, deliberate but without pattern, her hands came to her breasts, massaging as she kissed, and Ithildess found herself arching into them as she dug her nails into Zul’s shoulder—it drove her troll to a feverish level and Ithildess felt it; the intensity of her troll lover. Primal. Further down her stomach, Zul kissed the blonde down, and Ithildess gasped, hot air washed her lips, meeting the wetness pooling between. Then she noticed Zul’s sharp gaze, undressing her past nudity, getting to her core, and exposing the simple elf girl inside; Ithildess at her most exposed and pleading to her lover.

Ithildess came to know it as her predatory gaze. At first it felt blank, then she recognized the intelligence, the patience and reverence for her prey; she would come to know it not from the first demonstration. Zul’raja closed her eyes as she seemed to focus inward; Ithildess moaned nonsense as her pair of tusks poked her thighs and all her consciousness came to Zul’s mouth, and what she did to her flesh that sprinkled her eyes with tears and her body with ecstatic contractions and spasms. Thinking she had reached her absolute peak, Zul took her further again, and she saw colors behind her eyes, vivid displays within no coherent thought. She must’ve screamed, for her throat burned.

The pleasure abated, senses were returned, and Ithildess panted deeply against the blue of Zul’s neck. She was kissed, so gently that any more and Ithildess was convinced she might break. “Your… oh… Zul…” she breathed as each meeting of their lips gave her new life.  
“You are so beautiful,” Ithildess could hear, whispered with the greatest truth to her voice, “so, so perfect,” Zul continued until Ithildess forced her way on top and pushed Zul back into the mattress. She recreated the steps.

First, her mouth went to Zul’s breasts, soft pliancy and abundant, overflowing in her ardent hands and too much to cover with her lips. She sat astride Zul’s stomach and brought her lips to hers; this time forceful, taking what she desired, chasing Zul’s tongue and instilling the same intoxicated delirium. She let her hands and her want guide her lower, to her taut nipples, Ithildess took her in her mouth. A powerful creature like Zul’raja could be molded with the softest, most loving caresses; she was made to arch and stretch, to twist and move to deep moans, to an elf tongue tracing lines and curves on her body and lips that set her thighs quivering. Lower Ithildess went, and the scent hit her.

From far away she could hear Zul’s labored breathing, her ragged panting and begging. But Ithildess was mesmerized, senses drowned by the troll scent, and her mind went back to their very first day and how she had written in her notes of that very same scent; having believed it was the result of her heat. Yet now she came face to face with Zul’s lips again, their swelled state, darker hue and her matted, coarse hair that framed it so beautifully. Ithildess’ instincts, the deepest parts of her needs, told her to give in, to please her lover equally herself; her lips went to her right thigh, landing biting kisses that made her troll shake. Another kiss on her left thigh, close enough to feel the damp heat from her sex produced strange Zandali, like the sound of desperate curses.

Then, with nails dug into her hips, Ithildess let her mouth fall open and her tongue pierce her heat, and immediately Zul’s thighs sealed around her ears and she was closed off from the world. The mewls and moans from Zul rang through her body, Ithildess felt them as much as heard them, but she would remember her pulse more deafening than any sound, and it entered her, joined with hers. Zul’s excitement became Ithildess’.

She found Zul’s clit. She sucked at it, rolled it with her tongue, kissed it deeply as she imagined kissing Zul at that moment, she poured all her love into giving Zul pleasure. Ithildess could ignore her own desires reviving and growing, she could ignore being on the verge of orgasm just from Zul’s influence, but she felt Zul’s climax vividly; the gushing wetness of it, the jerk of her hips and raw cries, that pulse again rising sharply then dropping. Ithildess put it all to memory.

Her hands came away wet with blood on her fingers, and in her sexual daze she painted Zul’s twitching stomach with it, she found it incredibly charged, erotic beyond belief as she surveyed the sweating, quivering form Zul had taken.

Lifting one of Zul’s legs and pressing it against her, she straddled the other and guided her burning sex into her. She moved her hips, and connected to Zul they both shivered as their essence mingled, and what pleasure they felt, they felt together. “How does it feel, Zul? How—tell me,” Ithildess gasped as Zul’s hands went to her hips, grinding and moving to meet their union, sounding wetly with each shift.  
“I can’t last—ohh… you’re amazing, you’re amazing…Ithildess,” Zul rambled, and moaned as Ithildess hugged her leg firmly and ran her nails along Zul’s thigh. She had learned to love pleasing her this way, seeing how intense the reaction could become, and how the pain could transmute to orgasmic bliss.

“Together…together,” Ithildess demanded, looking to Zul’s face wrung and lost to maddening ecstasy, then to her breast, rippling softly as she slammed her sex against Zul, then grinding hurriedly, rhythmless as she felt herself tense almost painfully, her pleasure rising past the return point, gathering up to explode.

Violent contractions took control of her body, and Zul responded to them with her own. She held her hips in place as they rode out their climax, crying breathlessly, cursing, shaking and finally, Ithildess releasing Zul’s leg and slumping forward against her still writhing body.

They kissed, and everything was bliss, a comfortable vulnerability and weakness that allowed their souls together and their hearts to beat unified. “Will be build our own hut?” Ithildess whispered against Zul’s lips, briefly tasting them.  
“Yes, and it will be the greatest hut in Raja’mai, our home,” Zul said and rolled to her side, taking Ithildess with her wrapped in her arms, “what do you want to do tomorrow?”  
“I want to ravage you all day,” Ithildess said and kissed her collarbone, then her lips, and they fell into each other,  
“I’m sure nobody would mind, least of all me,” Zul murmured and let a finger glide from her tailbone to her neck, then down again, dipping into that delicate crevice and making Ithildess shudder against her. Both troll and elf marveled at each other’s softness, and it was Zul’s turn to stir as one slender finger teased around a rapidly hardening nipple and a smolder began once more between the two lovers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning on a final chapter after this, but after finishing this final scene I felt that here was a good place to stop, as I love happy endings. It's been a big learning experience in both storytelling and prose, and I had a ton of fun writing it, especially the sex scenes where it's easier to be more abstract with the descriptions.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed it, know that I'm always open to comments and critique!


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